


The Journal

by Healthyeyes



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Slow Burn, altered timeline, explicit content is in Ch 8 if u wanna skip it, slow burn arthur morgan/albert mason, the rating will change so please keep an eye on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-05-18 18:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19340434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Healthyeyes/pseuds/Healthyeyes
Summary: A decades long romance between a criminal and a photographer, with hidden feelings and stolen glances, following prompts from Arthur's journal entries from 1890 to 1899.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is hella long. Very very very slow burn. Please read if you wanna be sad at the end of this all. 
> 
> I also am working on an extended version with an OC discovering the journal, but I've shortened it all here for you. Just giving the people what they want.
> 
> Thankssss~
> 
> @austeyre for the idea on this

[Arthur's Journal]

 

_May 1892_

 

_Saw Mr. Mason recently. He was in the Heartlands in New Hanover, looking for hares. Managed to help him out, and he said he'd mail me a photo when he developed them. It was nice to see him._

 

 _I'm happy he's not chasing after anything too dangerous these days._ _~~I'm far too protective of him. He's a grown man, he can take care of himself~~. _

 

_\-----_

 

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Morgan!" Albert called, one hand on his hip and the other waving to Arthur, who rode up on his mare, trotting through some long grass that swayed in the warm wind. It was springtime for certain, and the warm winds moved over the grassy plains, ruffling Arthur's black collar. He raised a hand to Albert, and gave him a smile.

"I thought that it might be you out here with that." Arthur said, nodding to Albert's tripod and camera set up beneath a large oak tree.

"Yes, I suppose I am hard to miss." Albert smiled, making Arthur's heart skip, the thought of Albert smiling for _him_ far too exciting. Arthur busied himself with dismounting from his horse, taking the rains in hand and tying them to a nearby treebranch.

"What're ya up to then this time?" Arthur asked, looking around. He could see a small pile of vegetables near the base of the tree.

"Attempting, poorly, to photograph some of the rabbits around here." Albert sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and removing his straw hat with the other. He ran a hand through his dark hair as he approached his camera, fiddling with some of the dials on it.

"Well, you're too obvious. They can smell ya' a mile away." Arthur said. Albert laughed, throwing his hands in the air.

"That would explain it. I've seen them running around all afternoon, but they never come near enough!" Albert said. Arthur dug around in his satchel and produced a small vial, showing it to Albert. It was dark in colour and moved slowly within it's glass confine.

"Scent coverage. It'll keep 'em from smellin ya'. Come 'ere." Arthur said, motioning to him. Without hesitation, Albert heeded his call and took the few steps that separated them. He was close enough to smell Arthur now, and he could smell cigarettes, pine trees, and earthyness, and it made Albert want to lean into him.

He held himself back though, but a blush crossed his face as Arthur uncorked the vial and put a bit of it on his fingers. He reached out to Albert, and Albert had goosebumps spread along his arm at his touch behind his ear. He did the same to the other, and Albert noticed the smell; it was of berries and something like vinegar mixed with grass. Not unpleasant, but not necessarily desirable.

"Here." Arthur whispered, taking one of Albert's hands. Albert let im, trusting his gentle touch, as he put a bit more of the mixture against the inside of his wrists before releasing him and doing the same to himself.

"Should be good now. Go on. I'll wait." Arthur nodded, gesturing to his tripod. Truly, he wanted Albert further from him so he could be sure the man wouldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest.

Albert was happy to get his distance so he could get his head on straight, feeling drunk from the sudden and familiar touch of Arthur's calloused fingers brushing against his neck. He tried his best to focus on his equipment, and they both waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity, Arthur leaning against a tree a few feet back, watching quietly with his arms folded next to his horse.

And sure enough, they came into the clearing beneath the tree. A small family of them, attracted by the generous helping of lettuce and carrots that had been left for them. Albert was quiet, waiting, until he finally snapped a photo. The rabbits looked at the sound, then fled almost immediately, but Albert turned to smile at Arthur.

"Got it!" Arthur exclaimed, clapping his hands together. Arthur smiled as his horse nudged his shoulder. He pet her as Albert stride through the grass to them, and took Albert's hand in his, shaking it with vigor.

"Thank you for your help again, Mr. Morgan! You truly are a lifesaver. I promise I'll send you a copy when I get back to the city." Albert beamed. Arthur smiled gently as Albert released his hand. He missed the feeling already, and felt like a fool for it.

"No problem, Mr. Mason. I'll look forward to your letter then." Arthur said, taking the rein of his horse from the branch. "Glad I could be of assistance."

Albert beamed, and Arthur knew then that he would die for that smile.

"Well don't let me keep you, Mr. Morgan, but thank you again." Albert said as Arthur mounted his horse. He patted her, stroking her hair as he looked down at Albert.

Albert tipped his hat. "See ya' round, Mr. Mason."

 

\------


	2. Chapter 2

[Arthur’s journal]

 

July 1894

 

_ Found Mr. Mason out taking photos of mountain goats. He said he was heading back south, in his letters, but didn't mention when, so it was fate seeming to lead us to meet again after all these years. We're just passing one another. He's heading south, I'm heading north. _

_ Every time I see him, it gets harder to stop myself. I'll be gone before he's up. _

 

_[image description] a sketch done of Albert in charcoal of him sleeping, hat on the ground beside him.  A date is drawn in the corner. 1894.]_

 

\-----

 

Albert slept soundly beside the fire, and Arthur didn’t have the heart to wake him to wake him to move him to the tent, and instead had his book balanced on his lap, sketching. His eyes darted from Albert’s sleeping form to his page every few seconds, trying to get the look of him just right. He made a note to himself to get Albert to take a photo of himself sometime. This was the only image he had of him. It was lovingly detailed, his face portrayed gentle and handsome, and even the blades of grass that surrounded his sleeping mat had been drawn in. Arthur didn’t want to forget the quiet moment in the night, lit only by the fire that dwindled in front of them. He hadn't seen Albert in an age, and his heart ached looking at him, missing him already. He knew he didn't deserve a man Iike Albert though, at least that was what he told himself. Albert was too good, too kind and gentle, and he was too coarse, bloodied and wild, Arthur didn't see how the two of them could ever work. But still his heart hoped, holding out for the dark haired man who he only saw once in a blue moon.

Arthur brushed some of the dust from the page with a breath, taking a last look at his handy work before closing his journal, tying the leather string round it in a habitual type of way. He stuffed it into his bag, and then settled down in his sleeping bag beside the fire, neglecting the tent to be closer to Albert. He watched Albert a bit longer, brushing a piece of dark hair from his forehead, before he too fell asleep under the stars.

 

\---

  
  


Albert awoke alone in the woods to the morning light filtered through the trees branches. They swayed lightly in the wind, and Albert sighed, looking at the grass that had been slept on by Arthur, so close to his own spot. He put a hand out, as if he could feel Arthur still there, already missing him from their short, impromptu encounter.

Groaning, he sat up from his roll on the dirt ground, and as he did, his weary eyes caught sight of a small bundle of flowers, tied together with a piece of long grass, lying just beside the fire pit in front of him. Albert’s heart softened as he reached out and took the flowers in hand, some daisies and violets, and smelled them, appreciating the small token of affection Arthur had left for him.

It was a sweet, simple thing, and Albert held the flowers for a moment. He had known there was something. He had known there was a spark, a small hope of a flame living between them, even after so long apart. It had been years since he'd last seen Arthur, and their encounter had happened by chance, their few letters every now and again few and far between, but always laced with fondness and care.

He tucked the flowers into his the tie around his hat, and set about with a new hope in his mind.

\-----

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

[Arthur's Journal]

 

_ August 7th, 1895 _

 

_ Saw Albert again. Hell of a surprise. Thought he was done with nearly dying in the wilderness, but I guess folks up north liked his pictures and wanted more. The damn fool got lucky this time. Boars three times bigger than he was had him running back and forth for a quarter hour before I got to him.  _

 

_ Anyways, left him in St. Denis. After seeing to his leg, I left again, feeling, like always, a fool. _

 

_ He mentioned a show, displaying his photographs, in the city. After this business with Javier, I may come back to see it. _

 

\---

The air around the swamp was thick and heavy, and Arthur could feel the sweat rolling down his neck. He loosened his black bandana, and shrugged off his coat as Apple, his light cream coloured horse, lazily cantered down the dirt road. Long, weeping arms of ancient willows shifted slightly in the barely - there breeze. Arthur rolled up the sleeves of his blue shirt, and gave Apple a nudge forward with his heel. It was midday and Arthur hated this sticky sort of weather, wishing for nothing more than fresh mountain air or the rolling plains of the heartlands. The south was far too warm for his liking. 

 

“Help!” 

 

Arthur heard it, loud and clear, and so did Apple, stopping in her tracks. Arthur looked to his left, blue eyes searching the horizon, but saw nothing.

 

“Aah! Oh God Damnit-!!”

 

“Go. “ Arthur whispered, and Apple rushed forward towards the noise, letting her ears and Arthur's grip guide her, following the sounds of someone in trouble.

And as they rounded the hillside, Arthur's blue eyes widened. He always seemed to find him like this, and he let out a half laugh while charging Apple forward between Albert Mason, and what looked like a giant boar. Arthur swung himself down with ease, twisting his shotgun from his back to his hands in an easy movement, like he'd done it a thousand times.

“Mason, you tryin’ to get killed?!” Arthur said, not looking at the man behind him, but instead staring down the dark eyes boar that huffed a few feet away from them, obviously pissed-off.

“Mr. Morgan?!”

His voice cracked and Arthur was glad he couldn't see his smile. He dug his heel into the ground as he pumped the shotgun in his hands. The boar rolled it's shoulders and gave a huff and charged, but was met only by quick shards of lead lodged between its eyes. It lost all momentum instantaneously, and came to a skidding halt in front of Arthur's feet.

Arthur all but ignored it, turning on Albert, shouldering his gun. Albert's bright eyes bounced from him to the boar, now quite dead, behind him.

“Mr. Mason, why we always gotta be runnin’ into one another like this. I thought we agreed you'd retire?” Arthur shrugged, looking exasperated. He rested his hands on his leather belt, and his hard expression couldn't last long while looking at Albert, who was only beaming at him.

“Arthur, I owe you a debt again,” he said, smiling and stepping forward to grasp his hand in a firm shake. “I am attracting trouble as usual, and I couldn't stay away from this nature, same as you I suppose.”

Arthur sighed and smiled, distracted by the touch of Albert's hand, a bit smaller than his but still firm. His eyes drifted downwards however, and he looked at Albert's leg which had an obvious gash from a boar tusk and spots where he'd skidded on the ground showing on his pants as dirty, torn patches.

“We'd better get you cleaned up.” Arthur said, looking at his leg and motioning towards it. Albert seemed to become aware of the extent of his injuries then, and nodded. They parted hands, and Arthur felt emptier inside, somehow. The life he led was a lonely one, and seeing a friend out in the wilderness was remarkable, and made him yearn for the company of kind Albert.

“I'm sure you're busy, Mr. Morgan, you need not accompany me if you're at task.” Albert waved as he started to dismantle his tripod, hobbling to it with an obvious limp and wince of pain.

“Don't be ridiculous… “ Arthur mumbled as he took the tripod and camera from Albert, taking over. “Sit down.”

Albert surrendered and found a spot beneath a large, mossy willow, sitting down with his leg extended, rolling his pants up to examine the extent of his injuries. Arthur packed Albert’s belongings on his horse, keeping an eye on Albert from afar. He could see his leg was still bleeding, and Arthur gnawed at the inside of his cheek, worry filling him. He had seen lesser scratches turn green and black with time. The loss of a leg out in the wilds was nothing to sneer at.

“Let me see your leg.” Arthur said, rummaging in his own bag as he approached Albert beneath the tree. Albert adjusted his hat, looking up at Arthur as he sat down beside him.

Albert hadn’t been expecting it, but Arthur’s touch on his knee was gentle and warm, the man seeming focused as he pulled a roll of cloth from his satchel. Albert couldn’t help but let his eyes wander, admiring Arthur’s furrowed brows and the feeling of his callused hands against his leg as he lifted it, tying the cloth around it with practiced care.

“There.” Arthur said quietly, his blue eyes finding Albert's, both of them pausing a moment until Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, getting to his feet. Albert felt the absence of Arthur's touch immediately.

“Come on, I'll ride with you into town, get your leg looked at.” Arthur said, lending Albert a hand to his feet, but immediately dropping his hand after, feeling a buzzing in his fingertips.

“I didn't think boars were going to get me in too much trouble… How wrong was I?” Albert laughed as he steadied himself against a tree and whistled for his horse who came trotting over from a berry bush.

“They get pretty angry when they've got youngin’s around, “ Arthur said, reaching out to Albert's caramel coloured walker, a horse that seemed to be getting on in years. It nuzzled Arthur's hand, seeming to recognize him. Arthur smiled, petting the horse’s nose.

“Ah, yes there were a few, before they went running off with the rest.” Albert said, swinging his good leg over his horse.

“Well, let’s get outta here before they come on back and clip ya again.” Arthur laughed, following suit as the two headed south towards St. Denis.

 

\--

 

They rode into town at a slow canter, Arthur keeping a watchful eye on Albert as they headed through the thick trees further south. The air got muggier the further they went, but Alberts company made the ride all the better, the two of them discussing their latest adventures. Albert had apparently already had a few close encounters--a run in with a wolf, an angry moose--and Arthur was elusive about his exploits as always. Albert didn’t need to know what kind of man he truly was.

As they came to the old doctor's office in St. Denis, Arthur swung down and hitched his horse with ease, and did the same to Albert's horse, looking up at the doctor's office sign as he did so. It was just past dusk, and the town was starting to come alive with nightlife. He could hear the sounds of a bar close by, starting up their evening music already.

The last time Arthur had been at the doctors, it hadn't been the best visit, and looking at it gave him a feeling of dread. The doctor had looked at him grimly then, giving him the news he didn't have much longer, and with each passing day, Arthur knew he was right; He could feel it in his chest, closing his throat, the taste of blood in his mouth. Death had a hand on him already, and looking at Albert, he knew how much he stood to lose.

As Albert descended from his horse, Arthur caught the moment Albert’s bad leg gave way, and reached out to him, dropping the reins. One hand grabbed his arm and he other found the small of his back, steadying him to stop him from falling. Albert gripped into Arthur's arm, his other hand on his chest as he gained his footing.  

And there it was again; a stolen moment of locked eyes, and Albert could swear that he felt Arthur's heart beat faster in his chest, until Arthur let go and the world around them resumed. Arthur shuffled awkwardly, staying close to Alberts side until he came to the office door.

“Go on in. I’ll see you after. I’ve gotta get a few things.” Arthur said, nodding towards the general store across the street. Abert nodded and headed inside, but missed the reassuring feeling of Arthur’s presence beside him. 

 

It didn’t take long for the doctor to send him on his way--he cleaned and dressed the wound, and when Albert sat down on the rocking chair just outside the office, staring at the passerbyers in old St. Denis, he barely felt any pain. He watched as women walked back and forth along the street, sometimes a child in tow, and sometimes arm in arm with a lover. He couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy as he watched them, wishing so desperately he could share the same sort of affection and love.

When he saw Arthur emerge from the general store, his satchel looking a bit heavier than before, he felt a sort of peace wash over him, the jealousy disappearing and replacing itself with quiet contentment. Arthur adjusted his hat, and gave Albert a crooked grin as he walked. Albert felt his heart skip.

“That’s lookin’ better.” Arthur said, nodding towards his leg, stopping at the foot of the stairs.

“Yes, but my pants have certainly seen better days.” Albert laughed, looking at the holes in his trousers from skidding on the dirt. “I’d best rent a room for the evening, i’m afraid the boars might eat me if I stay out there again...would you care for a drink?”

Arthur looked surprised at the offer, but gave Albert that same crooked grin, resting a hand on his belt and adjusting his hat.

“If you’re buyin’” He said.

“Of course. You did save me yet again, afterall.” Albert said, getting to his feet so they could cross the cobblestone road together to the saloon. He felt Arthurs strong hand pat his back in a friendly way, and he missed it’s weight there when it disappeared.

“Good man.”

 

\--

 

A few drinks too many, and the pair of them were laughing, red faced and jovial. They had taken up a corner of the bar, sitting to themselves and relatively unbothered by the noise and movements around them, Albert engrossed in one of Arthur's tales that he was telling with a slur to his words.

“And then...he took the chicken!!” Arthur said, throwing his hands in the air. He laughed, and Albert followed suit, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes. Their laughter mixed in with the pleasant air of the bar, which was full of people milling about, dancing, drinking, or gambling. No matter what your vice was, you could always find it in a saloon in old St. Denis, and Arthur and Albert had found theirs at the bottom of their whiskey glasses.

Calming down from their laughter, they let the sounds of others’ conversations flow over them, a comfortable silence shared between them as Albert glanced at the ticking clock on the shelf behind the bar.

“I should probably get to bed...you and trouble have kept me up far too long, Mr. Morgan.” Albert grinned impishly at Arthur. Arthur leaned on the counter of the bar, moving in a bit closer to Albert so their knees touched just so. He enjoyed the way Albert called him  _ Mr. Morgan,  _ far too much.

“I’m pretty sure you been the one attracting trouble, Mr. Mason,” Arthur said, his cheeks flushed red. “Not that you can help it, I think.”

“That I cannot.” Albert chuckled, pushing away from the bar. He put a few coins on the counter, and they both headed outside and to the back of the saloon, where Arthur and Alberts horses had been grazing.

The air was cooler than inside, and a pleasant change, despite the still heavy moisture that made everything stickier than Arthur would have liked. Albert too found it too warm to his liking, and undid his waistcoat while grabbing a cigarette from the inner pocket. Arthur was quick and grabbed a pack of matches from his pocket, striking one against the bottom of his boot, and lit Alberts cigarette for him. Their eyes caught a moment, lingering, then Albert took a drag and stepped back, Arthur waving the match to put it out after lighting his own.

“Where are you heading off to now, wanderer?” Albert asked, swaying slightly until he settled against the wall. Part of him wanted to know, and the other part, ashamed of the growing feelings he knew rustled every time Arthur was around, wanted to just forget the handsome man, wishing he would disappear into the swamps of town. He wasn't supposed to feel this way for another man. That was...odd. Queer. It made Albert uncomfortable out here in the open, and he fiddled with his cigarette, flicking the ash from it with a practiced hand. He wasn't much of a smoker unless he was drunk.

Arthur was readying his horse, hanging onto the saddle a bit too tightly, obviously a bit unsteady on his feet after all their drinks. If it weren’t for the sturdy wooden wall of the saloon that he leaned against, Albert would have been just as uneven.

“Probably north-east. I heard from a trapper there’s a white deer up a ways,” Arthur said. “Besides, I hate this muggy weather.”

Albert chuckled. “I don’t blame you. A white deer you say though? Make sure to get a photo if you can. I’d like to see that.” 

 

“Why don’t you come with me?”

 

The words had fallen from Arthurs mouth before he even considered them, a longing hidden there that he willed to hide away. It would be too sweet, too good, for Arthur. Certainly, he thought, he didn’t deserve such goodness.

Albert felt his heart hammer at the suggestion, and not knowing if it were the alcohol or just himself, he felt his face get red, and thanked the heavens for the evening darkness that cloaked it. He knew, more than anything, he wanted to run with this man to the forest, but he stopped himself just short of doing so.

“I would love to, Mr. Morgan, but I'm heading north in a few days, and there’s so much to be done…” Albert said, disappointment in his voice. Arthur just gave him a warm smile, and it broke Albert’s heart.

“Next time, then.” Arthur said, knowing very well that the chances of there being a next time were very, very slim. He swung himself onto his horse, getting comfortable as he looked down at Albert.

“Next time.” Albert replied with a nod.

“Goodbye, Mr. Mason.” Arthur said.

“Goodbye, Mr. Morgan.”

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

[Arthurs Journal]

 

_ November 20th, 1896 _

 

_ Found a cabin far, far up north a while back in the 70s. Middle of nowhere, abandoned for a long time. I fixed it up a bit a few springs ago--a freshly stuffed mattress, fixed the windows, new door. I don't go there much but to hideout or need a place to sleep when I'm passin' by. Was heading up that way to do some hunting when some feller in town said he’d seen a photographer heading up North. _

_ Mr. Mason, it seems, has found the cabin. I told him he should use it if he was up north again. He said something about it bein’ tresspassin’, but no one’s been here in an age but me. Seems I convinced him. _

 

\------

 

Arthur knocked on the door to the cabin, then stepped back, looking around the front porch. A small pile of twigs and a few logs sat beside the door, ready for the fire he hoped was inside. Judging by the curling smoke from the chimney, there should be one waiting.

The door opened, and Arthur turned, and his expression brightened.

“Mr. Morgan?”

“You always say my name like you're surprised.” Arthur said, taking his hat off and holding it to his chest as he looked at the man across the threshold. His brown hair was messy, getting a bit long so it curled at the nape of his neck, but his beard looked relatively small, like he had cut it before his latest journey.

“Please, come in.” Albert said, putting a hand on his forearm and ushering him inside. He closed the door behind him, and Arthur kicked off his boots, not wanting to trail snow.

“I'm glad you found the place.” Arthur said. “And I'm even happier seein’ it untouched.” He said, peering around the cabin. It was rather bare, but he had made it his own, the little cabin he could run to when it got too hot down south or when he just needed to be alone. Sometimes the camp was just too much.

There was a bearskin on the ground in front of the fireplace, and Arthur remembered shooting it last year. Charles had helped him skin and butcher the bear, and they'd had enough meat for camp for the next month. It had been simpler then.

 

The fireplace was stone, but the cabin was all wood logs, and only one room, but it had a cozy feel to it. Cut wood was piled beside the fireplace along with a few iron pokers to stoke the fire, and a pot of something was cooking over the fire, making the room smell like warmth and comfort. A bed was pushed against the right wall, covered with a handmade blanket and a wool one at the end. There was a small table with two chairs in the centre of the room, and a pack of cards and a candle were placed there, waiting for a game to start.

A small counter and a wash bin were next to the south-facing window that was covered with frost, and the water pump inside the cabin for easy access so the pipe wouldn't freeze. There was a cloth bag that held a few vegetables and a loaf of bread within.

“Been readin’?” Arthur asked, nodding to the book on the ground by the fire.

“Yes. There were a few lying around.” Albert said with a hum, tightening the checkered blanket he had around his shoulders. “It’s very peaceful here. Albeit a tad cold.”

Arthur laughed.    


“Well, you’re the one chasin’ moose.”

“Well, so long as they’re not chasing me, I am quite content with that.” Albert said with a smile. It made Arthur laugh more, and he pulled up one of the chairs. He took his boots off and Albert watched him a moment, admiring how his deft fingers unlaced his boots with ease.

“How long you been here? A feller in town said he seen a photographer comin through, but he didn’t say how long ago.” Arthur asked, looking up at Albert. It made Albert’s heart skip a beat, seeing his bright eyes staring up at him.

“Only three days, not long. I haven’t found a single moose.” Albert chuckled.

“Mmh...they can be a bit tough if they smell ya’ comin’.” Arthur said with a nod. Albert sighed.

“This is precisely why I need an adventurer such as yourself around, Mr. Morgan!”

“Well, since ya asked so nicely.” Arthur said with a sideways grin. “We’ll head out tomorrow first thing, it’s almost sundown now.”

“Oh, are you sure? I mean, if you are otherwise engaged, I--"

"Ain't no problem, Mr. Mason." Arthur said with a nod.

"Well...Very good, then, Mr. Morgan.” Arthur nodded. “Moving along then, can I interest you in some of my homemade soup? I am sorry to say that I am no professional, but I believe it to be at least edible.”

Arthur chuckled. “I would like that, Mr. Mason.”

 

\---

 

“I insist you take the bed, Mr. Morgan! This is your home, and I am merely a guest, and you have been riding all day.” Albert said. It was evening, and of course when it came to bedtime, there was only one bed in the small room. While it could fit both of them comfortably, Albert didn’t want to be the one to offer. He was always careful about such things--give away too much, and he left himself vulnerable to the attacks all men of his persuasion seemed to face. Persecution, and sometimes death. While he had no reason to believe Arthur was the vindictive, hateful type, Albert’s nerves stopped him from getting any closer than he had to.

“I sleep rough all the time. You ain’t winnin’ this one.” Arthur said. He was already holding his bedroll beneath his arm, shaking his head.

“But-”

“No ‘buts’.” Arthur said. He tossed his bedroll down to the ground where the bearskin lay. In all facts, it would actually be more comfortable than he was used to; a warm fire, furs beneath him, no wind howling through his tent.

Albert gave a small huff, but threw his hands up in the air, ultimately defeated. It wasn't like he could lift Arthur and place him in the bed; he easily had 50 pounds on him.

"You win this time, Mr. Morgan." Albert huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his socks off. He always complained of being cold, but hated having his socks on, and Albert crawled into the blankets.

Arthur looked over at him, and Albert met his eyes. They paused, both unsure of what to say in the dark cabin, both timid and awkward, with fluttering in their stomachs. Unsurprisingly, it was Albert who bumbled first.

"Well, good night Mr. Morgan," Albert said. He hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it, biting his bottom lip. Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Spit it out, Mason." Arthur said, chewing his cheek, trying to hold back a smile but failing miserably.

"Thank you. I mean, thank you for inviting me here. It's been peaceful, and I know how private to you it must be." Albert said gently.

It caught Arthur by surprise. He had been expecting something cheeky, or maybe something a bit shy, but not something genuine. It made Arthur excited to hear Albert's praise, and he could feel his face grow hot.

"No problem. Not like I exactly own the place." Arthur chuckled, trying to brush off the fluttering in his stomach. He wanted to swallow the feeling, but his nerves left him with a dry mouth.

Albert laughed with him, and it was a warm moment, the fire crackling and the wind blowing outside, seeming miles away in their little oasis of warmth. They were feet away from one another, across the room, but they were together, and it was enough.

"Thank you, still, Arthur." Albert said. It made Arthur pause.

"We on a first name basis now, huh?" Arthur said in a gruff tone.

Albert backtracked. "No, no! I mean to say, if you don't want that, I--"

"Albert, I'm fuckin' with ya'." Arthur said with a laugh. Albert paused, appreciating the way he said his name.

"Yes. I knew that. Of course." Albert said, puffing up his chest, the blankets rising with him.

"Go to bed, Albert." Arthur said with a chuckle to his voice as he turned on his side, away from Albert and facing the fire. He closed his eyes, relaxing with the warmth from the flames in the hearth.

"Goodnight, Arthur." Albert said, lying on his back and staring over at Arthur's outline longingly.

"Goodnight, Albert."

 

\------

  
  


[Arthur's Journal]

 

_ Looks like I'll be extending my stay. We're snowed in.  _

 

_ Can't say I mind. _

_\----------_

  
  


"Oh, shit."

 

Arthur stared out at the wall of snow that was beginning to form around the cabin. A foot of it must have fallen in the night alone, and the grey clouds above gave no sign of breaking anytime soon. The wind howled bitterly, as he braced against it, making his way to the small barn where the horses were housed.

He found it through the storm, which had been surprisingly difficult as it was only a few feet from the house. He slipped inside and closed the door quickly behind him.

Immediately his horse, Apple, rose from her pile of fresh hay he'd thrown in the night before, with her blanket on top of course. She was a particular horse, but eternally faithful. He put his hand out to her and brushed her neck with his calloused hand, her mane soft and obviously cared for.

She huffed into his hand on her nose, and he stayed a bit there, enjoying her company before setting about the chores, mucking and feeding the horses, brushing and checking hooves. It'd been so early, and Albert had still been asleep, so the methodic care was one way to keep the man off his mind.

It worked until the sound of howling snow brought him back to reality. He said goodbye to Apple, and to Albert's mare as well, before slipping back into the snowstorm.

Again, it was blinding, snow flying in his eyes until he was able to get the collar of his jacket to the wind. Arthur knew what this meant, and wondered quietly how Albert would take it as he shovelled the snow to form a path between the barn and cabin, although he didn't know how long it would stay walkable with this weather.

He made it to the cabin and propped the shovel against the side of it, his face red from the exercise of it, as well as the cold air snapping at his cheeks. He opened the door and went inside the cabin.

The fire was growing larger than he'd left it, and he saw Albert awake, making tea in a cast-iron kettle over the fire. He was lounging casually on the bed, his back against the wall and a book in his lap as he looked up at Arthur.

“Good morning.” He said with a smile that warmed Arthur faster than the fire could.

“Mornin’.” Arthur replied, unlacing his boots and leaving them beside the door. Albert couldn't help but admire the snowflakes on his face and broad shoulders as he came in from the cold.

"Doesn't look too nice out there." Albert said, nodding to the window. Arthur noticed he didn't sound worried though.

"We're snowed in. I don't know how long the storm will go on," Arthur strode over and sat at the table with him. "Could be days."

"Well. I don't mind." Albert said, noticeably hiding his expression as he turned to get the tea. "I don't have anywhere to be."

Arthur did. Arthur always had people that needed him, but he couldn't worry about it now--he wasn't getting off the mountain one way or another. Not that he minded the idea of being stuck with Albert for days on end. The thought made his stomach flutter. Arthur wondered if Albert felt the same.

Albert poured him a cup of tea, Albert's drink of choice, but one that Arthur had yet to acquire a habitual taste for. He was quiet though as he sipped from the tin mug.

"What should we do for the afternoon then?" Albert asked, sitting down again. There was a suggestion there that Arthur needed to repress with every ounce of will. Instead, he left his tea and strode the length of the room to the end of the bed where a large trunk sat. He lifted the lid, and pulled out a wooden box. He smiled and shook it, a clattering sound inside.

"How good at chess are ya?"

 

\----

 

[Arthur's Journal]

 

_ Day three. I think I know what Cabin Fever is now. _

_\----_

 

"My back is killin' me." Arthur groaned, taking a shot of whiskey from his glass. He didn’t even grimace, and Albert was nearly impressed.

"Well, you shouldn't have cut wood all morning." Albert said, looking up from his book on light use in photography. He wore glasses that rested low on his nose, a gold chain attached to the arms around his neck. He watched Arthur as he shot back another bit of whiskey, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Well, we ain't usin' your books for kindlin', so…" Arthur said, gesturing to the pile of freshly cut wood that was stacked by the fireplace.

"Thank goodness.” Albert said.

"What'cha readin' anyways?" Arthur asked. Albert closed it and took off his glasses, letting them hang around his neck on it's delicate chain.

"Methods of Light in Photography by Alan James III." Albert said. "Boring, but informative. One must remain sharp in their craft if they are to stay at the top!"

"You certainly seem eager. You'll have no problem." Arthur said with a wave of his hand, getting up and crossing the few steps between them to pass by and grab a log from beside the fireplace. He threw it into the flames, and the fire roared to life, eating the dry wood and warming the room, battling the cold storm raging outside.

"Well, thank you for your confidence, Arthur." Albert said with a nod, feeling strings pull at his heart.

"'Ain't nothin'." Arthur said, brushing his nose in a bashful way. Every time Albert said his name, his stomach would get that  _ feeling _ again.

"What are you working on then?" Albert asked, nodding to the journal.

"Oh. I uh..I sketch, sometimes. I ain't no good, but it passes the time." Arthur said, clearly embarrassed. He closed it, and brushed his hand over it's leather cover nervously. Albert though looked like he'd just been told it was Christmas.

His eyes were bright, and he excitedly put down his book and hurried to Arthur's side at the table. He sat in the chair, but pulled it around so he could sit closer to Arthur, and their knees just barely touched.

"You  _ must _ show me. I am a great lover of art, as you know." Albert said. Arthur chuckled.

"Well, I dunno, you bein' a great " _ lover of art" _ and all, might think mine is a bit low brow." Arthur said, teasing Albert and trying to avoid showing Albert.

"Come, show me. Anything. I want to see Arthur Morgan,  _ the artist." _ Albert said. And Arthur knew then he could never deny the man anything, with kind eyes and crows feet that wrinkled at the corners of his eyes from years of smiles. His shirt was undone two buttons, relaxed, and Arthur was acutely aware of the heat from Albert's knee and how it brushed against his.

"I uh...I..Oh shit, alright." Arthur said with a huff, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit, before opening his journal and flipping through the pages.

Albert could see the talent as Arthur flipped through, quickly, but not too quickly as to see for a moment what was on a page. A scene of mountains. A bobcat. An abandoned church. A woman, beautiful with piercing eyes. A man with two scars on his cheek who looked fierce and dangerous. The glimpses were small, but they filled Albert until Arthur finally settled on one.

 

"There."

 

It was a charcoal sketch of a deer in the middle of a large field. Corn had been planted in long rows, and the deer was disrupting them, beautiful and lithe, it's shadow strewn across the corn stalks. It was undeniably beautiful, and the efforts of a skilled hand.

"Arthur, it's beautiful." Albert said, reaching out and touching the edge of the page, but not the sketch itself so as to not rub it off. He was gentle, admiring it a moment longer before beaming at Arthur. It made Arthur nervous to show his work, but Albert’s smile was reassuring.

"I never knew the gunslinger would have such a soft side." Albert said.

"How'd you figure I'm a gunslinger?" Arthur asked with a laugh.

"You travel with a full arsenal, Arthur. Far more than needed for hunting. I'm not blind." Albert said, rolling his eyes. "Don't change the subject. You are talented!"

Albert's insistence made Arthur rub the back of his neck again, avoiding his gaze.

"Thanks, Albert. I don't share these much, but comin' from a real artist is...it means a lot." Arthur said sincerely. Albert felt his heart ache as he looked at the man, admiring his sun-kissed skin and shadow of a light beard. He was tongue-tied, he realized, and it was Arthur who looked away first, standing up. Albert swore he saw red on his cheeks as he turned away.

"I'd better uh...check on the horses." Arthur said, hurrying about and grabbing his jacket, putting his boots on. Before Albert could get a word in, he'd disappeared out the door to the stable, leaving him with a hand placed over his heart, willing himself to calm down.

Flirting. Had Arthur been  _ flirting with him? _ Had  _ he  _ been flirting with  _ Arthur? _ The thought wouldn't leave his mind for the rest of the evening, only thinking of the flowers that had been left by the fireplace so long ago now. All these years. The thought wouldn't leave him be.

 

\--

 

Arthur sighed as he turned over on his spot on the cabin floor. He could hear Albert's soft snoring from a few meters away in the bed, and Arthur had the urge to crawl under the blankets with him. He wanted to wrap his arm around Albert's waist and put his lips on his neck--

Arthur stopped the thought there, dead in it's tracks. He turned back over, facing the fireplace, so he couldn't stare longingly at the dark-haired man who was so close but so far all at once. Arthur tried to convince himself he'd merely drank too much, and fell asleep thinking only of the way Albert had looked at him, eager and sincere in admiration. 

 

\---

 

[Arthur's Journal]

 

~~_ Day four. What in the fuck am I thinking _ ~~

 

_ Day four. The storm's still going. _

_ Told Albert about...them. He was kinder than I deserve. _

_ He does have a way of getting these things out of me. I bet Hosea would like him for what a fool he makes me look. _

_\--------_

 

Albert awoke to the smell of meat and broth, and he turned over, watching Arthur quietly shaving potato skins into a bucket. He watched him awhile as he peeled and cut the potatoes, adding them to the bubbling pot above the fire.

Albert appreciated his lithe fingers, and was enraptured by the way he bit his bottom lip in concentration. Albert was beginning to understand what "cabin fever" really was, hugging his pillow closer to him. Arthur seemed to have seen the movement, because he looked over his shoulder.

"Ah, you're awake." Arthur said, giving Albert a smile.

Albert had to reassure himself, seeing Albert's sleepy gaze and mussed hair.  _ Calm down, you fool. _

"Storms slowed down, but ain't by much." Arthur said. "Went huntin' anyways. Got a rabbit."

He motioned to the skinned rabbit that hung on a hook from the fire mantle. It was evident he'd taken off parts of it already and added them to the soup. Albert's stomach grumbled as he sat up in the bed.

"You went out in that?" Albert asked, looking to the window. To him, it didn't seem the storm had let up at all, snow still blowing past into a blinding whiteness.

"We're running low on rations. And I didn't feel like eating plain crackers tonight." Arthur laughed. He finished cutting the last potato, and wiped his knife on his pant leg before sheathing it on his leg holster. He shuffled around, then passed a cup of coffee to Albert, warm and the smell of it filling the room.

"Well, thank you. For this, and the food as well. I don't know what I would do without you. " Albert said gently. Arthur looked at him quickly, then hid his face as he busied himself with the soup.

He put the lid on the top. "'ain't nothin'." he mumbled, keeping hidden. Arthur could feel his face burning up. Albert was going to be the ruin of him.

"I admire men like you," Albert said, feeling equal parts brave and bold, "Able to live on their own out in all this nothingness."

"Well, it's got it's drawbacks." Arthur said with a nod as he sat back in his chair at the table, facing Albert, finally composed enough to face him. He played with the deck of cards that had been sitting at the table, keeping his eyes on it instead of Albert.

Albert seemed to have other ideas, because he draped the blanket over his shoulders and shuffled out of bed, taking the seat across from Arthur.

"Deal me in." Albert said.

Arthur chuckled, looking across the table at him. He had shrugged off his jacket long ago, and had rolled the sleeves on his white shirt up to expose his arms. Albert could see his scars, a bullet wound here, a knife scar there, the skin smoothed over and pink, different from his tanned skin.

"Alright. Let's play stacks." Arthur said with a shrug, noticing how Albert had been staring at his hands and arms. He felt nervous, but also a sense of confidence. He knew admiration when he saw it, Arthur wasn't blind. Arthur had had his share of run-ins. He was however, quiet about it.

"So, the drawbacks?" Albert asked as Arthur dealt their hands.

"Hm? Oh. Well." Arthur said, unsettled as he put the deck between them. "It's lonely, for one."

"I didn't expect that," Albert said, lying a king of hearts down on the table. "That's honest of you."

"I been at this a long time, Albert, and seen more miles than most. The idea of settlin' down, havin' what other folks have...it ain't for me. Not anymore, anyways. Livin' like this, you gotta be comfortable with that. Most aren't." Arthur said, keeping his eyes on his cards as he set down a queen of hearts on top of his card. They both pulled another from the pile.

"Anymore?" Albert asked, probing gently at Arthur's rough edges. He didn't want to frighten Arthur off again, but Albert's curiosity was too strong to ignore.

And he gave in. Of course he did. Arthur had no hopes against Albert's dark eyes and tousled hair, looking at him with curiosity. Arthur sighed.

"I used to have a family. Long time ago." Arthur said quietly as Albert paused in lying down a ten of hearts.

"What happened to them?" Albert asked, taking a card from the pile.

"Died. Slaughtered, by some strangers. My boy and woman..." Arthur trailed off, but laid a ten of spades.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." Albert said.

"Like I said, long time ago. I've lived a life since then." Arthur shrugged, trying his hardest to hide the hurt that lurked just below the surface, keeping his eyes on his cards.

Albert could see it though, hiding behind his bright eyes as he averted Albert's gaze. He frowned, concentrating on his cards in hand until Albert sighed, setting his cards down. He reached over to Arthur, letting his fingers touch the back of his hand gently.

Arthur was surprised by the gentle touch, but Albert's fingers were warm against his skin. He shifted his cards to his other hand, and let Albert take his, looking across the table at him with a gentle and sincere expression.

"I know that the hurt from things like that may never disappear, but you have a friend in me, Arthur. I hope that makes things less lonely." Albert said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur seemed to be calculating his in brain, searching Albert's dark eyes for the answer. He didn't know what it meant, Albert being so nice to him. People weren't generally  _ nice _ to Arthur, rather, they were more often scared of him. Here Albert sat though, trapped in a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere with him, reassuring him of...himself. It was then that Arthur understood Albert had  _ faith _ in him. It made Arthur feel admired again, and it only left him more confused than ever.

Arthur though, for all his confusion, knew that he appreciated Albert's companionship more than he had anyones in a long while. He squeezed Albert's hand, and gave him a shy sort of smile.

"Thank you, Albert." Was all he was able to manage, but the way Albert squeezed his hand back made him feel...more. More than he had in a long time.

"You are most welcome, my friend." Albert smiled warmly before letting his hand slip away from Arthurs, finding his cards again instead.

Arthur felt an emptiness take hold in his palm.

 

\----

 

[Arthur's Journal]

 

_ Day five and we've got a clearing in the weather. We'll leave this afternoon but i'm...not sure I want to. _

_ Would it be so bad to disappear into these mountains forever? Would Albert come with me? _

_ It's foolish to even think about. I can hear the boys at camp mocking me now. And someone's got to keep an eye on Dutch... _

  
  


\----

  
  


The storm had cleared, and Arthur stood outside, inhaling the crisp winter air. He had led both his and Albert's horse from the barn and tied it up outside of the cabin after unburying the tie post. It had taken him an hour alone to shovel out to the cabin at dawn, and the sun was just beginning to rise now. Leading the horses down the mountain in all this snow would be difficult, but the sky was clear and the sun was out, reflecting all the freshly fallen white snow.

Arthur heard the door open behind him, and he turned to see Albert squinting in the doorway, dressed and bundled in his heavy coat.

"Well, it's gonna be a hike outta here in all this snow. Better now than in six months when spring hits." Arthur said, brushing his horse with a gentle gloved hand. She huffed, her breath coming out in white clouds amidst the cold air.

"We'd better get going then." Albert said with a determined looking nod. 

 

They set off down the mountain, and slowly but surely, their path became less and less snow-covered, and instead opened to sprawling fields and forests of large oaks and pines that reached towards the sky. When they finally hit dirt road, they mounted their horses and rode to Strawberry side by side, chatting of the tales they'd be able to tell of their snowed in state.

"Jack's gonna be jealous, he keeps askin' to go back to the mountains to play in the snow." Arthur said with a chuckle as they slowed to a stop at a fork in the road just outside of Strawberry. One road went into town, the other went East.

"Well, I guess this is where we part, Arthur." Albert said. He extended a hand to Arthur, and Arthur shook it, that emptiness in his palm filling for only a moment.

"I guess so, Albert." He let go of Albert's hand.

"Thank you, you certainly saved me from starvation, even if I didn't get a picture of a moose." Albert said. Arthur laughed.

"Next time." He chuckled.

"I'd like that. Send me a letter to St. Denis' station next time you head North, eh?" Albert said, feeling brave for making a suggestion. Another hour even in Arthur's presence would be a blessing, but he knew their time was up for now.

"I shall, Mr. Mason." Arthur tipped his hat. "Till then."

"Till then."

Albert watched him ride East for a minute, admiring his broad-shouldered form atop his horse, already missing him, wondering if he would ever get the chance to see him again.

 

\---------

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

 

[Arthur's Journal]

 

May 1897

 

_ Been an age since I seen Albert. I had a dream about him the other night, nothing unusual, just us talking while we was fishing. I woke up missing him. So I sent him a letter. Corny. Pretty idiotic. _

_ Even if he don't show, it'll be nice to get away from camp for a bit. John's drivin' me crazy, the man don't know how good he got it with that boy of his. I need to get away from Dutch too, man doesn't stop talkin'. _

 

\------

 

Albert put his heel to his mare as he rode out from St. Denis, equipment on his horse and looking forward to the short ride out of the busy city. Truly, he did good business there, and received patronage from all sorts who had come to love his photography, but his heart was still in the wilds of America. As he left the city behind, he took the time to quietly appreciate the nature around him; dirt roads that led over hills and around forests, and the sky was dotted with white clouds for the day.

Slowly, his mind drifted to his destination, a small grove just outside of Rhodes. He’d been there a few times before, and his horse seemed to realize where he was headed as it took a left in the forked road without him directing. He gave her a small pat, brushing her white hair with his fingers gently. His mind wasn’t only on the destination though, but rather the man waiting for him. Arthur had left him a note at his gallery when he was north, telling him to meet him at the grove, and it had made Albert blush. Thankfully he’d waited until he’d gotten to his hotel to read the note. He took it from his pocket again now, the paper it was written on already worn out from his habitual re-reading of it.

_ Albert, _

_ Not sure what you're up to, or if this will find you, but if it works out, meet me in Rhodes in the first week of May. I'll be camped out just south of Radley's pasture, near the water. I think the deer here would be of particular interest to your photography--and spring is kid season. _

_ Yours, _

_ Arthur _

 

It was short and sweet, and the way he had signed it,  _ yours, _ made his heart skip. It was exactly what Albert had needed after a stressful family visit to New York. It’d been months since he’d seen Arthur last, and he was excited to see him again, and the letter had been a welcome surprise, delivered to the letter box his family kept in the city. He had given the address to Arthur back in the mountains, and it seemed he had taken it down.

Fate though, seemed to have other plans for Albert as two men rode out from behind a cluster of trees, guns drawn and pointed squarely at Albert.

“Stop right there.” One of them said. He was a gruff looking character, with a belly that spilled over his pants and a scar across his forehead. The other was skinnier, but not by much, and had dirty black hair that had been slicked back. Both of them were dirty looking, with holes in their clothes and what looked like blood on their boots. Albert didn’t want to know where it came from.

“Give us your money, or we’ll take it from ya’.” The dirty haired one said, furrowing his brow. Albert felt his stomach do flips, nervous all at once.  

“Of course, gentleman. No need to be hasty.” Albert said, slowly reaching for his pocket. He produced a sack of coins, and threw it on the ground between them. The skinnier one walked forward, gun still pointed at Albert, and scooped the bag up, feeling it’s weight in his hand.

“Little light, Ronnie.” The man said to the other behind him.

“Hmm...what else ya got.” The other, apparently Ronnie, said.

Albert swallowed. Money, he was willing to part with. His camera, however...it was his livelyhood and passion.

“Nothing of interest to you gentleman, i’m sure.” Albert said, his voice wobbly with nerves. He tried to give a reassuring smile, his hands still in the air, but it was unsuccessful.

“We’ll be the judge of that. Get down.” Ronnie said with a grunt. Albert hurried off the horse, his heart pounding. The other man was already at his horse, digging through his side bags and pulling his tripod off of his horses back.

“What the heck is this?” The man asked, waving his tripod around. Arthur gulped.

“A tripod.”

“A what-now?”

“A tripod. For a camera.”

“Ohhh, you got a camera now do ya?” The man smiled. “Gonna take some pretty pictures?”

Ronnie pulled his camera from his bag, and began looking at it, turning it over, being more rough with it than Albert would have preferred. His eyes kept darting to it.

“Well, it is my job.” Albert said.

“Job, huh? That means you got money comin’ in on the regular, pretty boy?” Ronnie asked. He poked Albert with the barrel of his gun, making Albert jump what felt like a foot in the air.

“Uhh...well, a modest amount…” Albert said uneasily.

Ronnie seemed to look over at his companion, who nodded and smirked.

“Night night then, pretty boy.”

There was a sharp pain at the back of his head, then Albert’s world went black.

\----

Arthur had been pacing so much, the grass had flattened firmly beneath his boots. It was after dark already, and Albert still hadn’t come.

Finally, fed up with waiting, Arthur lit his lantern and mounted Apple. The lantern bounced shadows on the ground as he rode down the dirt road southbound, and the air got thicker the further he went. His eyes scanned around him as he rode, looking for any sign of the hopeless photographer, a knot in his stomach with worry.

It wasn't long until he came across a camp, a few meters off from the road, hidden behind trees with branches that touched the ground. Arthur heard their laughter first, deep and slurred with words that he could barely understand. He dismounted from Apple, and tied her reins to a tree far away from the camp, pulling out his silver-plated Cattleman revolver and his Litchfield rifle, slinging it over his shoulder.

Arthur peered into the darkness, and made his way towards the camp.

\--

Albert glared at the men who'd seen fit to take him captive. He had been tied to a tree by the fire, forced to be exposed to the men's singing and occasional beating. Apparently the plan was to ransom him, to who, Albert had no idea, but to them, being a photographer instantly meant he was worth more than they could fathom.

He'd been subjected to a knock on his head, which had left a sizeable welt and left his head pounding when he awoke. He couldn't speak for the scarf in his mouth, and his hands were tied in his lap. He'd been smacked across the face twice already for being smart when they'd un-gagged him, and that had left open wounds, one on his right cheek and another on his left temple, blood, crimson red and warm, still dripping from them.

Albert was tired. The men had been drunkenly singing for the last half hour, and he preferred it to their interrogation. He was about to close his eyes when he saw a shadow, just beyond the trees, move from one to another, waiting, watching in the darkness. He couldn't tell who or what it was, but he hoped it would intervene on his behalf.

And when it did, it was in a bloody way Albert didn't know was possible. The man closest to him went down like a bag of potatoes when a bullet lodged in his brain. Silence fell over the camp, and Albert blinked, the dead man's blood splattered on his neck and face. Albert tried to breathe, but couldn't, just staring at the dead man who looked up at him with a blank expression, blood pooling on the ground next to him.

"What the-" One of the men started, but he was cut off as he was shot in the chest. He doubled over, and the other men pulled their guns, turning to the forest. They fired into the darkness, failing to hit their target as he ran between the trees at the edges of the camp, sticking to the shadows to cloak his movement. Even Albert couldn't keep up with where he was.

The camp was quiet for a minute, the remaining 6 men with guns at the ready, looking around themselves with wide eyes. Arthur walked from the trees  to the left of him with his revolver at his hip, firing at the other men in the camp who had taken whatever cover they could. One by one, they went down, Arthur's expert marksmanship unrivaled, especially by amateurs such as them. All the while, Arthur wore an expression of grim seriousness, and Albert felt a chill as he watched him dispatch them one by one, methodically and practiced. He wore a dark leather jacket, and black pants tucked into brown boots, and he had a few days of scruff on his face. His blonde hair was hidden under his hat, and his eyebrows were furrowed, a look of concentration about him as he stood at the edge of the camp, surveying for any other threats.

It was quiet though. There had been five of them, and Arthur had killed them all in a matter of seconds. Albert still couldn't quite catch his breath still as he felt his world spinning. Never had he seen the man he loved be so...brutal. Surely, Arthur had warned him plenty, but Albert hadn't thought…

Arthur holstered his gun and slung his rife over his shoulder again. He held empty hands up to Albert as he looked at him, approaching slowly. He must have looked wild to Arthur, because he moved slowly, trying to reassure Albert with purposeful his movements.

"Albert, I'm not gonna hurt ya'." Arthur said.

Idiot. Albert knew he would never. It was the adrenaline of watching life extinguished before him that made his breathing erratic, and the surprise of it all. His eyes darted, looking at Arthur, then at the bodies lying on the ground around them, and he knew he was hyperventilating. Arthur drew closer, then put his hands around Albert's head, untying the scarf from his mouth. Albert could finally breathe properly, and it slowed down considerably as he felt Arthur cutting through the thick rope around his hands and body.

"Arthur. Arthur, god, how did you--" Albert began, but he couldn't find the words, shaking. Arthur kept his green eyes concentrated on the ropes.

"Don't mind 'bout me, I can always find trouble. Are you alright?" Arthur asked as he cut through the last layer of rope. He finally locked eyes with Albert, only inches from his face. Arthur sheathed his knife and let his hand wipe blood from Albert's face.

"Yes. Yes I'm alright." Albert breathed, trying not to loose his composure any further, searching his eyes as he felt his heartbeat returning to normal. All he had to care about was Arthur. It made it easier.

"Let's get you outta here." Arthur said in a quiet voice, dropping his hand from his face. Albert missed his touch, and instead took his hand, gripping it as if his life depended on it.

"My equipment--" Albert said.

"I'll get ya' new equipment. We're not that far out of town--People'll be comin' along the path, we gotta move." Arthur said, tugging at Albert's hand and leading him towards the forest. Albert nodded numbly, still in shock as Arthur led him around the mass amount of bodies and pools of blood that had gathered on the grass, and Albert had to squeeze his eyes closed so he wouldn't throw up at the sight of a man's blank stare at him.

Before Albert realized, he was being lifted onto Arthur's horse after stumbling through the darkness. All he could concentrate on was the feeling of his face pressed into Arthur's back as he rode them towards Rhodes, towards the grove that Albert had been headed to. His heart began to slow from the thunder that had been hammering in him before, and he could finally catch his breath. All he could smell now was gunpowder on Arthur. Still though, he was solid and strong, and Albert felt a hell of a lot safer holding him than he had all day.

 

When they finally came to a stop, it was at the small camp that Arthur had set up days ago. The fire he had left going in the clearing was now nothing but embers, but Albert could see his familiar green tent pitched under a nearby tree. Arthur dismounted first, then helped Albert down, who found he was still shaking, a far off look about him. He certainly didn't feel right.

"Come on. Sit down." Arthur said, guiding him gently to the fire. Albert numbly did as he was told, and Arthur set about getting the fire going. It was roaring in no-time, and Albert found himself staring at it, silent.

"Albert."

The voice echoed like it was too far away. He was barely aware as gentle hands took a wet cloth over his face, wiping away whatever man's blood had been there, mixed with his own.

"Albert."

A firm hand on his arm. He looked up, and Arthur was there, bloodied cloth in hand.

"Albert, are you alright? I'm sorry you had to see that." Arthur apologized. Albert was only able to stare at him, confused. Why would he say sorry? He had saved him. Idiot.

Albert flung his arms around Arthur and let out a sob into his neck. It seemed to spill over all at once, all the emotion and anxiety from the moment he'd woken up in the gangsters camp, to now. It overwhelmed him, and he was left shaking in Arthur's arms as he rubbed circles against his back, calming him. Arthur whispered to him, saying it would be alright, he would be fine, he was safe, and it made Albert feel that he was all Arthur told him he was. Slowly, his sobs turned to normal breath, relaxing, concentrating on the feeling of Arthur's hand on his back.

"I'm alright." Albert got out weakly. He was exhausted, but he finally let go of Arthur, who was looking at him with a concerned expression.

"You should sleep." Arthur said, nodding to the tent. Albert nodded, agreeing.

"Don't leave me." Albert said, taking Arthur's hand in his and squeezing lightly. He knew he looked frightened, lost, as he certainly felt it along with exhaustion nipping at his heels from the emotional toll.

Arthur wrestled with himself for a moment, before nodding, knowing he couldn't deny Albert whatever he asked for. He patted Albert's hand, then hurried to his feet and to the tent. He returned a moment later with blankets and furs, dumping them on the ground next to them.

"Come on then. I'll watch, no one's gonna hurt you no more, alright?" Arthur said, trying to give Albert his best assurance. Albert, exhausted, nodded and crawled into the makeshift bed Arthur had made for him, finding it soft and comfortable on the flat grass with the furs to cushion and warm him.

It was a surprising hand on Albert's shoulder as another blanket was placed on him, and he could feel Arthur sit just behind him, his presence warming and comforting Albert. It was a strong and steady hand on his shoulder that made Albert feel truly safe though, just a small point of contact that did all the world to reassure him of his safety. Arthur had saved him more than once, but this time, against humans, the most beastly of all creatures, it had surely been the most dangerous. Albert closed his eyes, sighing, relaxing under the weight of Arthur's hand, feeling safe.

"Thank you, Arthur."

 

\----- 

 

When Albert awoke, it was to the smell of carrots and rabbit stew, and it made his stomach grumble. He opened his eyes slowly, peering across the fire at the figure turning a spoon in a pot over the flames. His hat was off, and Albert admired his golden hair, cut short, and his strong jawline. He wore a striped shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, and he had a pair of black suspenders across his broad shoulders. Albert had to look away as he sat up, furs on his shoulders to keep him warm.

"Mornin'." Arthur said. Albert looked at him quickly, found him too much to look at, then busied himself with his shirt.

"Morning...You wouldn't happen to have a shirt I could borrow, would you? I'm sorry to ask but I'd rather not wear a dead man's blood. Seems like bad luck." Albert said in a low, quiet tone. Arthur nodded just beside him; Of course he'd thought of that already, and a neatly folded pile of clothes sat just there.

"Thank you." Albert said. Without thinking, he tossed his shirt off in the morning chill, and he swore he saw Arthur look away, possibly even blush, when his chest was bare, putting on the clean shirt Arthur had give him. Albert tried his best to pretend he didn't notice.

The shirt was far too large, of course, the shoulders all wrong and the sleeves too long. Albert rolled up one sleeve, then the other, but felt a bit ridiculous. He didn't feel any reassured by Albert's smirking smile.

"Oh come on now. Did you give me your largest one?" Albert asked. Arthur laughed aloud.

"It's all I got, I didn't mean to offend." He said, waving a hand with a smile. He looked at the soup, trying to keep his gaze off Albert.

"I just...think ya...well, ya look pretty cute in that." Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck. He chanced a glance at Albert, who's cheeks looked noticeably flushed.

"Well...thank you, any which way." Albert said, trying to be smooth about the compliment that made his heart race. "You've given me a shirt on my back, and saved my life. I don't know how to repay you."

Arthur just smiled and looked at him gently as he always did, with a warm smile that made Albert's heart melt. Arthur lifted the ladle and took a sip of the stew.

"Why don't we leave those heavy conversations for after food."

\---

Albert took a long drink, wincing as he swallowed the hard liquor that burned his throat. Arthur watched, then shook his head and sighed.

"Frankly I'm surprised you didn't start sooner. Come on, if you're done then." Arthur said. He brushed his knees off as he stood up from his spot by the fire, grabbing his hat and putting it on, hiding his blonde hair. He strode past Albert's spot, who looked at him curiously, then followed Arthur.

"Where are we going?" Albert asked after their walk took them to the waterside. He was noticibly nervous, looking over his shoulder as he walked beside him.

"I told you I'd show you the deer." Arthur said gruffly. But Albert could see the kindness in his actions; normalcy. He wanted to give Albert what he'd originally set out for, and Albert appreciated the quiet sort of kindness Arthur always seemed to practice. He knew Arthur wouldn't pry him about the incident, about his black eye and his wounded pride, but Albert only wished he could feel safe.

"...Arthur." Albert said quietly as they walked.

"Hmm?" Arthur hummed, low in tone as he looked over at Albert. Albert didn't know how to ask for what he truly needed from Arthur, so he did the only thing he knew to do in that moment of need.

He reached out and laced his fingers between Arthurs. He needed to feel something real, to remind him of the goodness that still existed, and most of all, to feel safe. Arthur was all of this to Albert; he'd been falling hard for the man for a long time now.

When Arthur squeezed back without missing a beat, Albert's heart soared, a thrill rushing through him at the small affirmation of care.

"There. Look." Arthur whispered suddenly, stopping them on the shore of the beach. Across the river was a brown spotted deer and her fawn, standing on shakey legs. They sipped from the water gently, and Arthur and Albert enjoyed the moment, watching them while holding hands. No one was around but them, and it wasn't until the deer and fawn began to teeter away that Albert was nearly kicking himself.

"I forgot my camera!" Albert said. Arthur chuckled, his head moving back towards the view of the rolling hills and the river flowing, the deer walking through the tall grass.

"Enjoy it. This is just for us." Arthur said. Albert looked at him, then back to the landscape, drinking in the orange sunset that was beginning to dip below the horizon. 

Arthur squeezed his hand again.

\---

Albert had parted with Arthur in St. Denis. Arthur had said he had business near there as well, and rode all the way with him south towards the polluted mess of a city, though he was fairly certain he had other places to be. Still though, he appreciated the escort, feeling surprisingly at ease through it. 

Arthur had stopped, and Albert pulled alongside him, stopping his small mare. Arthur looked dangerous as ever, far too many guns tucked into his saddle and sun-kissed skin weathered with a few days of beard growth coming in nicely. Arthur was a poster-boy for dangerous criminals, Albert couldn't help but think, and it made him smile. 

"What ya' ogglin' at?" Arthur asked gruffly. 

"Ah, hah, nothing, my friend nothing at all. Thank you, for saving me again." Albert said. 

"I told you, stop sayin' that." Arthur huffed. 

"Once more! Thank you!" Albert beamed and Arthur condeded defeat with a bowed head, shaking it as Albert chuckled. 

"I'll miss ya', Albert. Don't be a stranger." Arthur said.

Albert sighed, not wanting to leave the man at this crossroads. Their lives though were incompatible. Famous photographer. Infamous criminal. Didn't exactly make attending a social party easy. 

"I promise on our next outing, I won't get kidnapped." Albert said, making a crossing motion over his chest where his heart beat beneath. Arthur chuckled, and snapped the reins of his horse so she started in a slow canter northward. 

"Yeah, I won't hold your luck to that." Arthur laughed. Albert chuckled with him as he watched Arthur wave over his shoulder. 

He disappeared around a bend, and Albert felt a loneliness take hold in his heart. Certainly, he had great stories to tell at his next afternoon function, but what he wanted to do was run into the West with Arthur. To disappear beyond the mountains into the great wide nothingness and live without judgement.

Next time. There had always been a next time before, so...next time, Albert promised himself. Next time.

\----

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

[Arthur's Journal]

 

_ May 10th, 1898 _

 

_ Saw Albert again. He was camping up north-west this time, past Valentine, apparently looking for birds. He’s feeling better than last time I saw him, but I still worry about him being out in the wilderness alone. _

_ Spent the night at his camp. Showed him around to the best views for bird watching. He's going back to the city for another show, soon, and I don't have much time left. _

_ I'll miss him. _

\------  
  


Arthur slowed his horse with a low hum in his throat and a pat at her throat, and the horse, Apple, as Jack had named her, gave a huff in appreciation. Arthur adjusted the brim of his leather hat, as he directed Apple up a small hill, letting her take her time off the road trail. Her heavy hooves were softened by the grass beneath her, and Arthur yawned, realizing that the sun was dropping ever lower on the horizon. He looked at the sky, and spotted the lazy drift of dark clouds, the signs of a fire poking out from the tops of the trees.

Arthur dismounted, but kept Apple's reign in his hand as he weaved them through the trees to the dim glow just a few meters ahead, curious.

“Hello?” A voice from near the fire called, hearing Arthur and Apple's approach.

Arthur took pause for only a moment, hoping, willing it to be the voice he just heard. He approached, tying Apple's reign to a low branch as he watched a figure stand up from beside the fire.

“Who's there?”

Arthur's heart skipped a beat and he smiled, calling out, feeling a sudden rush of excitement at the familiar voice.

“Well if it ain't Mr. Mason.” Arthur laughed, stepping into the light of the fire.

"Arthur?” The figure asked.

“The one and only.” Arthur said with a chuckle. The two of them approached one another, but neither reached out, staying curiously separate as if a magnet were pushing them apart, both of them too shy to embrace despite the happy coincidence.

“What a surprise! Come, sit, have some food.” Albert said as he instantly began puttering about, putting away photographs that had been strewn out on a blanket he had spread out by the fire.

He had what looked like mushrooms on a stick roasting at the edge of the fire, letting off an earthy smell. He peered into the boiling black pot, and saw a few potatoes roasting. His stomach grumbled.

“Thanks. How ya’ been, Albert?” Arthur asked, taking a seat on a fox fur spread on the ground.

“Good. I'm here looking for birds.” He said, beaming, answering Arthur's question before he could even ask it.

“Oh? A bit north, aren't ya? Last I heard from ya letter, you were in St. Denis.” He asked.  

“I’m looking for Eagles--they tend to like higher elevations, see? Easier for them to catch the wind and fly. And you know me, I couldn't stand the city for too long.” He said, rummaging in his bag beside him. He produced a photo from what looked like a newspaper, a bit crumpled now that it had been in his bag, and held it out to Arthur. "Here."

“Yeah, I seen some up here before.” Arthur said, trying to remember exactly where. “Did you take this one?”

“No no, a colleague took it. I took it for reference from the paper he published it in. His framing is perfectly timed, there. It seems I was so jealous of the shot, I had to come back out into all this.” Albert laughed, gesturing to the wilderness around them, bringing a smile to Arthur's face.

“Well, I don’t blame ya’.” Arthur mused, putting his cold hands out to the fire to warm them. He admired the way the flames made Albert’s face glow gently, accenting his kind features. They stared at one another for a moment too long before Albert busied himself with the roasting mushrooms. Silence surrounded them, save for the rare sound of an owl in the trees not too far off, but both men felt comfortable in each other's presence.

“I might know where to find a few more. I could show you tomorrow, if you'd like?” Arthur offered. He did not offer to do chores for others, generally speaking, but he was certain he'd do anything to get a moment of Albert's attention. And he got the reaction he desired; Albert beaming, the warmth of the fire casting a kind glow on his features.

“That would be lovely, Arthur.” Albert smiled. He reached down and took one of the now-roasted mushroom sticks from beside the flames, and passed one to Arthur.

“Well, better get set up then--” Arthur started, sighing as he stood up. Albert, before he could stop himself, let the words tumble out.

“You're welcome to my tent.” Albert said, rather, blurted, wringing his hands nervously. He seemed to realize he was doing so, and plunged his hands into his pockets. Immediately, a blush came to his cheeks and he cleared his throat.

“That is, it's big enough for both of us, and it would save you time in setting up your tent in the dark. It's also quite cold, so the added temperature would be welcome.” Albert said, talking far too quickly. Arthur smiled gently though, and moved to his horse to take his sleeping roll down and remove the saddle for Apple to sleep comfortably.

“That's kind of ya, Albert. I do think I'll take you up on that.” Arthur said, rubbing the back of his neck, butterflies in his stomach again. He admired the bashful smile on Albert's face at the mention of his name, and he seemed to will his attention back to his horse's saddle.

“Good! I mean, good, of course. Uhm. More dinner?” Albert asked, trying as best he could to calm his nerves. His heart was thumping a mile a minute.

“Sure.” Arthur said, rummaging in his saddle pack. He produced a small lump in brown paper and a bottle full of amber liquid, and held it out to Albert. “We're eating better than some mushrooms, though.”

 

\----

 

The tent was small, but Albert had been right in saying it would fit the both of them comfortably. They had both lied their sleeping mats out next to each other, and the space had warmed considerably with the both of them to warm it. It was dark, the dying flames of the fire casting shadows on the tent and brightening the space just enough for Arthur to see the outline of Albert lying next to him, his back to him. He watched his breathing, rising and falling gently, and Arthur wondered if he was sleeping.

Albert was trying to calm himself, willing himself to just fall asleep. But his head was filled with images of Arthur holding him close to his broad chest, and it made his heart hammer. He hoped that Arthur couldn’t hear it. The air was cold, and Albert could tell it was snowing outside, the top of the tent weighted a bit already by a collection of snow on it. He shivered beneath his blanket.

When Albert felt a gentle hand on his back, he nearly jumped out of his bed with surprise. Instead, his breath hitched and he froze, the feeling of Arthur's hand on his back a welcome sensation, albeit surprising. He stopped breathing all together as Arthur's voice sounded quietly behind him, muffled by the snow around them. 

“Albert…?” Arthur whispered into the darkness.

“Mmh?” Albert replied, too bashful for words. Arthur's hand moved down his shoulder and arm to his waist. There was a quiet shuffling, and Arthur's body pressed against Albert's back. Arthur's strong arm wrapped around his waist, and his hand rested against his chest.

“Is this...alright?” Arthur asked, gently. He was always so gentle with Albert, but never had he attempted something so bold. Arthur's few years on him had given him the confidence to make the first move, and leave Albert with his head spinning.

“Yes.” Albert whispered, barely able to get a breath.

“Hmm, good...goodnight, Albert.” Arthur said in his graveley, tired tone, burying his face in Albert's warm neck, his curly brown hair tickling his face. It was the most physical touch either of them had experienced in an age, and it made Arthur's heart ache with longing as he fell asleep, holding Albert and listening to his heart as he did. He was content just to hold him, to fall asleep in the companionship of another person.

Albert took a while to let his body relax into Arthur's large form, his warm body a welcome feeling in the dark, cold night, but one he wasn't used to. When he did relax, he could appreciate the swell of Arthur's breath as he fell asleep, a bit raspy in his ear, and the smell of campfire lingering on the both of them. The feeling of Arthur’s beard on his neck tickled, but pleasantly so, and his arm was heavy around his waist, still gripping lightly onto his shirt. Albert eventually drifted to sleep, letting Arthur's warm embrace keep him. 

 

\---

 

Arthur awoke first. He always was an early riser, and he was no different on this cold morning. He stayed wrapped around Albert though, listening to the sound of his light snoring as Arthur willed the moment to last a lifetime, birds chirping in the background outside of their tent. He stayed there a long while, thinking of how all the letters they'd sent in the years, it could never equate to this.

Eventually, he reluctantly pryed himself away from Albert, tucking the blankets around him as he grabbed his jacket from the corner.

He stepped out of the tent and breathed in the cold air, letting it fill his lungs until he coughed. He suppressed it into his elbow, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. He ignored the blood.

Arthur busied himself instead with making a fire amidst the freshly fallen snow. Their horses seemed to have appreciated the small cover made of pine branches they'd set up for them between three trees, resting beneath it. Apple lifted her head when Arthur approached to get a log from the small pile Albert had beside them, and he had shooshed her, brushing her mane. She quieted down, and let Arthur go about his business.

He had a fire in no time, and he warmed his hands against it. After warming up, he set about making coffee in the small canister he always brought with him, the smell of it alone waking him. It wasn't long until he had a full cup and took a seat on a log, looking into the forest around them, thick with pines and old trees covered in snow that weighed their branches down.

He heard a shuffle behind him, and Albert emerged from the tent, rubbing his eyes.

“Mornin’,” Arthur said. “Coffee's made.”

“Thank you.” Albert said quietly, shuffling to the other free log beside the fire. Arthur could see him fully now, and noticed he had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he found himself worrying enough to put another log on the fire.

“Sleep well?” Arthur asked, taking a sip of coffee. Albert poured his own, then ran a hand through his thick brown hair.

“Yes.” He said, blushing a bit. Albert couldn't help remember Arthur's strong arm around him, warm and weighty, feeling safe as he slept. “You?”

“Better than I have in a long time.” Arthur said with a charming smile.

“That's...,” He coughed. “Good, I mean, we will be able to find those birds today, no getting tired!” Albert said, a bit rushed and embarrassed. He knew he felt strongly for Arthur, but the thought of them speaking of it freely aloud made him nervous. He drank his coffee.

“We can leave the camp set up, it's just a short hike from here.” Arthur said calmly, trying to balance Albert's nervous energy. He could see it in his tight shoulders, and Arthur wondered if maybe he hadn't done the right thing last night. The self-deprecating voice in his mind told him Albert didn't want him at all, that maybe he had overstepped.

It didn't take long for them to hike up the short ridge, only 10 minutes of winding through the dense trees. Arthur had been right, of course, to leave the horses behind, the trees grew closely together here, towering pines that blocked the winter light, not that there was much just now. Standing on the ridge, both of them could see the dark clouds rolling in, threatening to snow, and a chill passed through Albert. He tightened his coat around him, and followed Arthur off to the right, where he slowed and motioned for Albert to hold up. He got down to his knees, and then to his belly, and he crawled to the edge. Albert could see his smile when he looked over his shoulder and motioned for him to come near.

Albert did the same as him, getting to his belly and crawling through the freshly fallen snow. When he came up beside Arthur, he could finally hear the squeaking.

He breathed in, and then beamed at the sight just below him. Three baby golden eagles sat surrounded by a deep nest of twigs and grasses.

They were tiny things, barely had their feathers, and chirped incessantly. Albert assumed that the mother was hunting, and therefore absent, but it bode well for them to stay a while to observe. They were quiet, and when Albert managed to look way from the animals, he could have sworn he caught Arthur staring at him. He hadn't realized how close they had gotten to one another on that small ledge.

Albert looked away, trying to hide his burning cheeks from Arthur, willing his heart to slow. He backed away from the ledge (and Arthur,) and stood up, dusting the snow off himself as Arthur looked over his shoulder.

Albert was already taking his photography gear from his horse, putting the interesting contraption together with a practiced precision and focus that Arthur could appreciate. He made the same moves while cleaning guns. Just another reason, thought Arthur's self-deprecating voice, to stay away from him. Their lifestyles just weren't compatible. Albert was far too good a man, and he, Arthur, an outlaw on the edge of society.

Arthur backed off so as to give Albert space for his photos, but as Albert approached with an excited grin that made Arthur's heart ache with longing. He wanted to hold him again and fall asleep with him again. Anything more felt far too greedy to Arthur. He should be so lucky to have even whatever this was between them.

He stood back and watched Albert take a few photos, shouting at him to be careful when he started to move too far forward on the ledge. It made Arthur nervous just watching him.

Albert finished a while later, and Arthur had lit himself a cigarette and had a seat beneath a large pine tree in the snow. He had been drawing when Albert approached with his camera under his arm.

“All done?” Arthur asked, looking up as Albert moved to sit beside him beneath the tree.

“Yes. Thank you for showing me. What a treat.” Albert said. Arthur couldn't help but think he was glowing, smiling at him.

“No problem.” Arthur nodded, adjusting his hat and hiding beneath it ever so slightly as he closed his book.

“You have a talent for finding the beautiful out in all this wild, Mr. Morgan.” Albert said as they stared out at the scenery in front of them. Trees and forest spread out in rolling fields, and mountains to the north were tall and imposing on the landscape, casting shadows. Everything was capped with snow, and it was quiet but for a gentle wind.

“I thought we was past 'Mr. Morgan'?" Arthur asked, redirecting the conversation, looking not at the scenery, but instead at Albert.

"It does take a bit of getting used to." Albert said, looking finally over at Arthur who held his gaze calmly. Arthur knew that look. He knew it never came from someone who didn’t want him. Albert only looked at him with kindness and care, and it made Arthur’s heart melt.

"That it does." Arthur said. His eyes seemed to be searching for a moment before he tore away from Alberts gaze, his heart pounding. They were both quiet, and it was understood that there was a lot to get used to between them, more than just names.

\---

They made it back to camp easily, and Albert busied himself with putting his equipment way, hiding from Arthur who had sat by the fire. Arthur took his notebook out, and threw another log on the fire, watching it grow higher.

"I'd better get movin', Albert. I was passing through on my way to a job." Arthur said, looking at his journal and flipping a page with a sigh. Albert seemed to stop for a moment, his back to Arthur, but he resumed as he cleared his throat, but didn’t look at him. He knew in the pit of his stomach he didn’t want Arthur to leave.

"Ah, yes, don't let me slow you down! I'm sure you're a popular man everywhere, not just with hopeless, clumsy men such as myself. it's understandable you must be on your way." Albert said with a nod.

Arthur was quiet, but Albert heard him close his book. When he looked, Arthur was crossing the few steps between them, and he hugged Albert with a warm embrace, not saying a word. His arms were wrapped around Albert's middle, his face buried in his neck, holding him tightly.

Albert was stunned for a moment before he let his arms wrap around Arthur, smelling him as he breathed into his jacket. Arthur gripped Albert's coat in fistfulls, holding him close in the cold morning air.

"I'll miss you." Albert said, breaking the silence between them in their embrace, mumbling into his neck. Neither dared let go, and Albert could feel his heart breaking already. He knew the longing he had for Arthur was wrong, not what he was supposed to feel as a decent gentleman, but he wanted Arthur in every way. He certainly didn't want him to leave, never knowing if he'd see him again.

"I'll find you again. I always do." Arthur said, his bass tone rumbling against Albert's chest. Arthur was the first to loosen his grip, holding Albert's shoulders.

"Meet me in St. Denis, sometime." Albert said, already missing him.

"Maybe I'll show up at one of your shows." Arthur said with a smile. His hands slipped away from Albert, and he sighed before going about grabbing his pack from beside the tent.

Albert shook his head and waved his hands in front of him.

"Oh, no no, you don't want to see that." Albert said nervously. He couldn't imagine Arthur being interested in that, as he saw nature every day around him, but Arthur surprised him as he strapped his bed roll to the back of his horse.

"You underestimate my love of art, good sir." Arthur said with a laugh, trying his best impression of a townie. It made Albert chuckle.

"Keep working on that. You'll start sounding just like them." Albert said, watching with longing as Arthur boosted himself up to his horse, swinging his leg over. He held the leather reins in his hands, and looked over at Albert.

"See ya round, Albert."

"Goodbye, Arthur."

Arthur snapped the reins of his horse and Albert watched as they disappeared through the trees.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello thank u for reading if u love me leave a comment and tell me about ur fave character in rdr2 bless <3 <3 <3 xoxoxo

_ [A series of letters between Arthur and Albert, bundled with a red string, a small and delicate stack. There are few of Arthur's, and mostly Albert's, pushed between the pages of the journal. An incomplete set, with missing letters between, but still a small collection carefully preserved with yellowing paper] _

 

_ June 10th, 1898 _

 

_ Dear Albert,  _

  
  


_ I dunno if this will find it's way to you correctly, but I assume you're in St. Denis. I've missed you, honestly. I hope you ain't wandering out in the wilderness without a guide. I ain't gotta be worrying about you too. Send me a letter next time you head out, I'll check ya' ain't starving.  _

 

__ _ How's the photography going? See anything interesting lately? _

 

_ Yours,  _

 

_ A.M.  _

 

_ \---- _

 

_ [A photo of Niagara Falls in black and white is included and dated on the back. July 29th, 1898] _

  
  


_ August 2nd, 1898 _

  
  


_ Dearest Arthur,  _

 

__ _ What a pleasure it was to see a letter from you waiting for me when I got back from New York. I must admit, I had a smile reading all of it and thought 'hm, the quiet man says little even in his writing.' _

 

__ _ I went northward to Canada, recently, just for a few days. We stayed near Niagara Falls, what a sight to behold! I've included a photo I took for you. If you have never been north, I highly suggest a trip. It may be cold, but the sights are worth the chill. I hope you enjoy the photo, it was difficult to get as the falls move so quickly. _

 

__ _ I saw a woodpecker as well. It's a red, white and black sort of bird that has an elongated beak to tap at trees and take the bugs that live within it's bark and trunk. I didn't manage to photograph it--next time. _

 

__ _ I miss you, Arthur. I will be in St. Denis at the end of September. I'll buy you a drink next time you're in town. It would be lovely to see you. _

 

_ Yours truely, _

 

_ Albert Mason _

  
  


_ \--------- _

 

_ November 10th, 1989 _

 

_ Dearest Arthur, _

 

__ _ Your last letter reached me just as I returned from that trip to Valentine I told you about when you visited me last. I was only there for two days, visiting a small farm near to there where my dearest uncle lives with his family. His name is Frederick Mason, and his wife is Elizabeth. They have two children, Jacob, who is 5, and Greta, who is 3. They are a precious family, and I can't help but envy them at times.  _

 

_ I hope you are well, Arthur. I have been readying for my gallery viewing slowly but surely. I will send you a notice when it is scheduled officially. Perhaps you could come. Let me know when you will be near St. Denis next.  _

 

_ Yours truly, _

_ Albert Mason _

  
  


_ \------ _

 

_ December 20th, 1989 _

 

_ Dearest Arthur,  _

 

__ _ Thank you for your last letter. You are a man often hard to get hold of, so it was surprising to hear from you so quickly. I hope now that it is winter you and your gang have settled in a bit.  _

 

__ _ Happy holidays to you and all around you, Arthur. I wish we could celebrate it together, but I have gone north to New York for a while to visit family. I will send word when I'm back in the field. I have been itching to get back out there into the wilderness. I think I would rather deal with wolves than my own mother.  _

 

__ _ Wish me luck, friend. _

 

_ Yours truly, _

_ Albert Mason _

  
  


_ \--------- _

 

_ February 1899  _

 

_ Dear Albert,  _

 

__ _ I got your letter just now, been busy at camp these days. Honestly, I'm startin' to go a bit stir-crazy. I'll probably go south a few days, I'll send another letter before I leave. I'll stop by in the city--hopefully you're there. It ain't really my thing, the city, but I'd bear it for a drink with you. _

 

__ _ Charles' been askin' who I been writing so much these days, since he's usually the one I go hunting with. Knows me better than most. I told him about you and showed him your photos. He said he'd like to see your show, whenever it is.  _

 

__ _ I haven't been feeling the greatest, lately. Got a cold that just won't leave. Make sure you wear an extra layer if you're going north at all. _

 

__ _ Miss you. Hope you're well, Albert. _

 

_ Yours,  _

 

_ A.M.  _

 

_ \------- _

  
  


_ April 1st, 1899 _

 

_ Dearest Arthur,  _

 

__ _ It was so nice to see you in passing outside of Strawberry. I know you and your companion (Charles, I recall his name was?) couldn't stay long, but thank you for the shared meal, you truly are a better cook than you give yourself credit for. You looked a bit thin, though, and even now I'm worried about you. Don't forget to take care of yourself.  _

 

_ I will be in St. Denis for most of the summer. My show should be opening soon. I am getting more nervous by the day. I wish you were here to reassure me, or perhaps just save me from this altogether.  _

 

_ Yours truly,  _

 

_ Albert Mason _

 

_ \----- _

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.

[A yellowed letter, written in a messy scrawl. With it is a small newspaper clipping for a gallery viewing in St. Denis, with Albert's name written in the headline.]

 

_May 30th, 1899_

 

_Dearest Arthur,_

 

_I hope it is not too vain, but I have cut this out for you as an invitation of sorts, as I know you don't care to read the paper much. I have a gallery show coming up, and while I'm not sure if you'll get this in time, it would be an honour to have you visit._

 

_Yours truly,_

 

_Albert_

 

\---------

  


[Arthurs Journal]

 

[A charcoal drawing on the top of the page of a humble looking room, with a small kitchen and a sitting area.]

 

 _June 10th_ 1899

 

_Saw Albert's “gallery viewing,” he called it. His photos sure were something. There was a photo of me, as well. He must have taken it when I wasn't paying attention, the scoundrel. Saw his apartment afterwards. I drew it in the morning light._

 

_Stayed for the night. It was nice. If I could, I'd like to...stay a while. With him._

 

~~_I don't know._ _This is ridiculous. He can't see me at the end._~~

 

_\------_

  


Arthur spotted him first, of course. He had slipped into the gallery amidst the groups of others who came and went, and had since taken post along the edge of the room, holding his hat in his hands. And now here he stood, watching Albert from afar but too afraid to bother him amidst what looked like a conversation with friends. Arthur admired him from afar, his small but proud shoulders and brushed back dark brown hair. He smiled and Arthur appreciated the way his wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, giving him a handsome, welcoming appearance. He must have stared too long though, because Albert caught his eye, did a double take, then whispered, confused for a moment. Arthur couldn’t hear him across the room with all the chatter, but he saw his name form on his lips.

 

“Arthur?”

 

There was no hiding now. Albert, with bright eyes and a keen smile, hurriedly pushed past the group he'd been speaking with to approach him, completely disregarding his other guests. He embraced Arthur, and nearly knocked his hat off as he did. Arthur got to only enjoy Albert's warm arms for a moment before he stepped away, but clasped his shoulders.

 

“Arthur Morgan. Am I ever glad to see you!” Albert beamed. "You got my letter…?”

 

“I did.” Arthur said, producing the newspaper clipping from his pocket that advertised Albert’s latest gallery show. “You also couldn't stop worrying about it last you wrote’.”

 

Albert seemed a bit bashful, but still smiled at him in an endearing sort of way.

 

“Yes. Well. Seems I shouldn't have worried at all,” Albert said, looking around the rather full room. He hesitated a moment, his words seeming to catch in his throat before he managed to find them. “I'm glad you could make it.”

 

“Of course.” Arthur said, tipping the brim of his hat to Albert in a polite way. It was then that a small cough interrupted them, and a short woman with a purple hat bigger than she was took over Albert's attention, seeming worried about some set up in the back parlour. Arthur tried not to eavesdrop and started to step away, and Albert seemed torn.

 

“Yes yes, Matilda, hold on...Arthur!” Albert said, grabbing his elbow earnestly before Arthur could slip away from him. “I know you're not one for crowds, so feel free to slip out...but meet me for a drink tonight?”

 

Arthur could barely say yes fast enough.

 

“9 o'clock? The place down the road?” Arthur asked. Albert beamed.

 

“Perfect.”

 

Albert released him, and it was like the chatter of the room came back to him all at once. Albert had been so close again, so near, so real. He wasn't just a fever dream Arthur was having alone in the woods.

 

Arthur watched Albert be whisked away to an unseen part of the large gallery, then turned his focus to the photographs.

 

They were beautiful, of course. Animals, seen undisturbed in a virgin land; There were alligators, with gaping teeth being cleaned by delicate birds as they basked in the sun of the swampy marshes and horses, roaming on the plains in grass up to their bellies. There were eagles, and a nest resting against a grey cliffside, baby chick's being fed their morning meal, and there were butterflies, piled on a fragrant flower bush so thick they made it look as if it had been cloaked.

 

Arthur admired them, until the photos took a uniquely personal turn, from nature, to man. Photos of logging fields, muddy, men toiling away, and of salons from the outside late at night, lit like a beacon. And then of gentler things; A campsite, a horse and carriage. A man beneath a tree.

 

Arthur blinked.

 

It was him.

 

He recognized his own form, resting against a tree, his hat tilted downwards and his journal in his lap. He was sleeping. He remembered the sun being warm that day, and irresistible to nap in, and it seemed he'd slept so well, he hadn't noticed Albert take his photo.

 

Arthur felt his heart ache.

 

\----

 

“You snuck a photo of me in there.” Arthur later admonished Albert over their respective glasses of whiskey. They'd chosen a spot near the back of the saloon, quieter, more discrete, and had made themselves comfortable in the evening candlelight together, now a few drinks in. Albert looked well kept, his brown hair swept back, wearing a full suit with waistcoat, a dark green that suited him well with a black tie. Arthur himself was still in his everyday wear, leather jacket, hat, unkempt blue button shirt and black pants with his various guns and weapons strapped to his holster and bandolier. He had taken care to wear his ‘town boots’ today though, the ones with the least mud and shit on them.

 

Albert looked shy as he chuckled, sipping at his whiskey. He couldn't remember what number of drink this one was.

 

“I did. I admit, I am a bit embarrassed you saw that. People keep asking about you. The iconic cowboy.” Albert said, smirking at Arthur across the table. Truthfully, it had been difficult to choose which photos to include in the show, but Arthur’s had been a no-brainer.

 

“Do they now. Well, I'm just as famous as you, huh?” Arthur replied, finishing off his drink. Albert laughed.

 

“I did enjoy it though. You take pretty good photos.” Arthur offered, and he could swear that Albert blushed.

 

“Nonsense. I'm just recording the beauty that nature has provided us with.” Albert said, finishing his own drink.

 

“You callin’ me a beauty?” Arthur asked with a sly smile. Albert sputtered a minute, but was silenced by the sensation of Arthur's hand on his knee beneath the table. It made him freeze with surprise, but Arthur held his gaze, talking low. “It's ok if you are. I don't mind.”

 

Albert's brain was racing nearly as fast as his heart. They were both more than a bit tipsy now, but to make a move in public was something that even Albert hadn't done before. Most of his encounters with men had been hushed, hurried affairs, never leaving him quite satisfied, and always lonely. Arthur though, he kept coming back. Kept complimenting. Kept turning up in the nick of time. Kept his hand on Albert's knee.

 

“I suppose I am.” Albert said quietly. Keeping his eyes on Arthur, his heart pounded as he felt Arthur's firm hand squeeze his knee a bit. Arthur smiled warmly at Albert, obviously a little drunk but he had always held his liquor well.

 

“Well then, mind if I walk you home, pretty boy?” Arthur asked. Albert chuckled at the pet name, liking it far more than he should, but nodded.

 

“A true gentleman.” Albert said as he moved his chair back. Arthur's hand slipped away, but he followed suit as Albert put his jacket on that had been hanging on the back of his chair.

“Depends who ya ask.” Arthur said, putting his own jacket on. They headed out from the bar, leaving the bright lights behind in the saloon.

 

They walked side by side, closely, even, their elbows touching as they matched pace, walking just down the street to Albert's small apartment he rented in St. Denis when he was in town. It was above a general store, up a flight of stairs near the back of the house hidden in an alleyway, on the second floor, and had a decent view of the river where Albert liked to watch the ships pass by. Most importantly though, the owner didn't seem to care about Albert, just how he liked it. One less person poking about in his business.

 

Tonight though, in the alley, it was dark and void of any other life but themselves and a grey cat that ran from one side of the alley to another, slipping away. They'd stayed in the bar longer than they'd realized, but it was welcome, the night giving them the privacy they required to be what they truly were; madly in love.

 

At the foot of the stairs to his apartment, Albert looked at Arthur, both of them lingering. Arthur had always been taller than him, and having him this close only made it more apparent. He looked up at him, and took Arthur's hand in his, both of them pausing at the steps. He played with Arthur's fingers, seeing how his own compared--they were nearly the same size, but Arthur's hands were rougher and a bit wider. Albert traced the lines on his hands with his fingers, both of them quietly enjoying the light touch.

 

“Now Albert, you keep looking at me sweet like that, I ain't sure if I'm ever gonna be able to leave.” Arthur said quietly, breaking their silence in the night. Albert smiled.

 

“Good.” He replied.

 

Arthur leaned down and kissed Albert then. He couldn't stand it a moment longer, watching the beautiful man in front of him go without being kissed. He couldn’t be certain if it was the liquor, or just the years of pent up longing that motivated him, but either way, the results were sweet. His lips were soft, and Arthur let his hand cup Albert’s face, breathing in the sweet kiss as he felt his soft beard. Albert's hat fell off, but neither of them cared to grab it.

 

Albert, stunned at first, felt like a dam had broken, and his moment of hesitation turned to hunger. Arthur's lips were rougher than his, but strong, tasting of whiskey, and he smelled of pine trees and dirt, earthy and familiar. His hands though were still so unfamiliar to Albert, and as he untangled his hand from his, Arthur's hands found his back, caressing him and pressing him into his body. Arthur's tongue glided over Albert's bottom lip and he felt himself being led until Albert had his back against the wall of the shop.

 

Albert clutched at Arthur's shirt, the rush of the moment getting to him, and undid the first button before Arthur pulled away gently, holding his hand. Confused, Albert looked up at him.

 

“I been wantin’ this for a long time, Albert. I ain’t ‘bout to rush it.” Arthur smiled, kissing him lightly between words. Albert felt embarrassed for a moment, not used to taking his time during these types of encounters, but let Arthur kiss him longer. He was right. He’d known Arthur for years, and he’d been pining for the man since he’d laid eyes on him, and finally, he had his chance. He wanted to take an eternity with Arthur, if he would let him.

 

The two of them made it up the flight of stairs to Albert’s apartment, and Albert fumbled with the keys as Arthur watched him like a cat, leaning on the banister for his small landing balcony. It would have normally made Albert feel uncomfortable, having someone watch him fumble, but with Arthur, he felt...comfortable. An odd feeling, not having to hide who you were or how clumsy he could be, with Arthur, he knew.

 

Albert got the lock at last, and looked over his shoulder as he swung the door open, giving Arthur a sheepish smile.

 

“‘Bout time.” Arthur teased, moved towards him. Albert would have replied with some witty retort had Arthur not kissed him, taking his face in his hands and leading him into the darkened apartment. Albert sighed into Arthur's lips, and Arthur moved with him, closing the door behind them, never leaving Albert for a moment.

 

Albert pulled Arthur closer immediately, losing himself in his strong embrace as his tongue slipped over his lips. As Arthur pressed him against the wall, he slid his leg between Albert's, and Albert blushed, feeling Arthur's already hard length pressing against him. Albert moved his hips against Arthur's leg, and he could hear Arthur's groan of appreciation at the contact.

 

Still though, he moved slowly. His hands were safely against his back, stroking lovingly, the physical act exciting and comforting Albert. He felt safe with Arthur. He always had of course, but this felt less like the hurried act of fucking he was used to, and instead, it felt more like making love.

 

Albert's hands found Arthur's hair, stroking through his blonde locks, still kissing him, enjoying the feeling of just being with him in such an intimate way, and Arthur seemed to enjoy it because he only kissed Albert with more urgency. Life out in America was lonely when it came to the South West; towns were few and far between, and any mention of an inclination to the same sex was generally treated as taboo at the best of times. Albert didn’t want to think about the worst of times. Instead he let himself be pulled back by Arthur’s hands which had found their way to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. Arthur's fingers brushed against Albert's collarbone, and it made the hair on the back of his neck rise up.

 

Arthur’s lips moved away from Alberts, and he kissed his cheek, a move that made him blush again like a school boy, and then his jaw and finally his neck, which made Albert weak in the knees almost instantly. The pressure was sweet below his ear, and he could hear Arthur’s breath and feel his rough stubble tickling his neck as he pressed kisses against his skin. Albert moaned audibly, and it only seemed to spur Arthur on as he pushed Albert’s shirt and coat off him.

 

Albert was distracted by Arthur’s lips on his again, but managed to push Arthur’s coat off and unbutton his shirt. He let his hands rest on Arthur’s chest, and felt his heartbeat through his undershirt. Arthur kissed him again, just a peck, then took his hand, Albert guiding them both  towards the bedroom, through a small hall to the right. The room was small, but had a few identifying objects of Alberts; An extra camera, a box of bulbs, another straw hat. Arthur pushed him gently onto the bed, that was pushed up against the wall across from the window. Albert reached out to him, feet still firmly planted on the ground, sitting at the edge.

 

Albert's hands held Arthur's hips, and Arthur's hands found Albert's brown hair, stroking down his neck and back in a relaxing way. Albert sighed and buried his face in Arthur's stomach, pulling him close between his legs. He pushed his shirt up and found skin there, salty as he kissed along his waistline, his hands running up Arthur's back beneath his shirt. The pressure in Albert's groin was becoming too much, starting to make him dizzy with need. He unbuttoned Arthur's pants and pushed them off of him, his length exposed.

 

Albert let that same fire as before take over as he took Arthur in his mouth. He was delirious with the taste of him, the feeling of his fingers in his hair and the sound of Arthur's deep moans as his head bobbed on his hard cock. Albert could feel him in his throat, and he dug his fingernails into Arthur's ass, pulling him closer, wanting all of him.

 

Arthur nearly lost himself then. His heart was hammering as Albert sucked his cock, his lips moving against his length in a way that pushed him towards the edge. He resisted though, wanting more. He wanted all of Albert tonight, no more glances and what-ifs. Albert's tongue moved with his mouth, and Arthur groaned in pleasure at the sensation he had only dreamed about for far too long.

 

Arthur mustered the willpower to removed himself from Albert's mouth, missing the feeling already when he leaned down to kiss him. Albert's lips were slippery with drool, but Arthur didn't care, holding his face in his hands as he kissed him sweetly. Albert lazily jerked Arthur off as they kissed, making Arthur moan into his lips. He left him only when he pushed Albert to the bed, trying to focus.

 

Albert moved up the bed as Arthur took his pants off, throwing them to the floor. Albert was longer than him, but not as wide, but the sight of all of him exposed made Arthur swear beneath his breath, massaging Albert's legs as he still stood above him.

 

“You're beautiful.” Arthur said quietly.

 

“So are you.” Albert replied.

 

“Hmm...stay here.” Arthur said. Albert did as he was told, touching himself as he watched Arthur stride across the room and pick up his satchel. He fished out a small tin of vaseline, and took a generous amount in hand. He caught Albert's eye and he nodded, biting his bottom lip in anticipation of Arthur's touch.

 

Arthur's fingers found Albert's ass as he took the time to massage him, relaxing him as he hovered above him, kissing him all the while. Albert's small whines and bucking of his hips made Arthur sigh into him, pushing a finger into him, then another and another. Albert moaned, moving towards Arthur's hand as he began to move, the vaseline making things slick and pleasurable. Albert's hands found Arthur's cock, and he began to jerk him off again, the rhythm getting to Arthur's head so much that he moved his hand at the same time. He could only take so much.

 

“Arthur, please...fuck me.” Albert said in a hushed moan, his voice needy. It was all Arthur needed to move to standing again. Albert's knees were close to his chest, and Arthur could appreciate him then as he pressed his cock against Albert's entrance. He looked blown out in bliss, his dark hair disheveled and his bright eyes glassy with lust. Arthur supposed he must look relatively the same.

 

Arthur pushed himself in, and waited a moment before Albert began to move against him, taking the signal. He moved his hips against Albert, his hand gripping Albert's cock. Albert's moans were loud, and the sound of their sex moving against one another echoed throughout the room in an erotic fashion, only them there to hear it mixed with their heavy breaths. Arthur's cock stretched Albert wide, and Albert could only feel him, moving against him, the heat of him, the smell of his sweat. His entire world then was Arthur.

 

Arthur tried his best to take his time, but it was difficult with Albert's moans so loud in his ears and the feeling of him tightening around his cock.

 

“Albert...fuckin’ hell…” Arthur moaned.

 

“Gorgeous…Fuck me harder, Arthur." Albert breathed heavily. Arthur fucked him harder, never able to deny Albert a thing, and in return Albert praised him sweetly as Arthur breathed heavily, pleasure flowing through him.

 

"You're so good, Arthur…yes like that my darling…" Albert panted, sending butterflies through Arthur's stomach as he clenched Arthur's cock in his hand, his wrist moving in rhythm of his thrusts. Albert's hands gripped the bed beneath them, and Arthur jerked Albert off faster than before as Albert praised him. Arthur wanted only to please him, to give Albert everything he wanted in that moment.

 

“Arthur! Fuck, yes!” Albert cried as he spilled over his belly, reaching his peak. Arthur kept moving against his ass until he felt himself unload inside him, crying out as he did only a moment after Albert.

 

He stayed there a moment until his muscles stopped spasming, then detangled himself from Albert, both of them breathing heavily. He kept his hands on Albert's legs though, holding them and letting them down gently over the edge of the bed from their previously cramped position. Arthur crossed the room and grabbed a towel to throw at Albert, who caught it, and another for himself. He cleaned himself off, then tiredly took himself to the bed, lying beside Albert.

 

He kissed Albert's neck as Albert finished cleaning himself off, tossing the towel aside with a sigh.

 

They were quiet then, Albert's arm around Arthur as he turned his head to kiss him directly. Arthur planted a kiss on his lips, tasting him and enjoying the sweetness of the moment before they settled into the bed beside one another.

 

“How did I find you?” Albert asked, wondering aloud, the only other sound their breathing.

“Well, if you'll recall, I found _you_ bein’ nearly eaten by wolves.” Arthur said with a laugh, turning to face him and draping a hand over his waist.

 

“Mmh...my saviour.” Albert said. Arthur laughed but kissed him again.

 

“Hardly a saviour.” Arthur said.

 

“To some, I'm sure you are. It's all a matter of perspective.” Albert said, his fingers playing with Arthur's golden locks. Arthur gave a small ‘hm’, but was quiet otherwise, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling his Albert's hands in his hair. He was still drunk, he realized, and he chuckled.

 

"I'm still drunk." Albert said in a whisper, seeming to voice Arthur's thoughts. Arthur laughed aloud, gripping Albert's hip bone.

 

"Me too." Arthur replied, still chuckling. Albert shuffled over and Arthur moved his arm so Albert could lie on his chest, draping his arm behind him so it became a pillow for Albert. Arthur kissed the top of his head, smelling his hair. It was a quiet, loving moment, and they both savoured it before drifting off to sleep.

 

\---

 

Arthur woke up with Albert lying half on top of him, nestled in the crook of his arm beneath a pillow. He was breathing slowly, his dark hair falling neatly around his ears and face, a bit longer than Arthur had last seen it. Arthur curled a lock of the dark hair, with a few greys at the edges coming in, between his fingers as he admired the crows feet near the corners of his eyes.

 

Albert didn't stir for some time, and Arthur was content to lie with him quietly, falling in and out of sleep, just enjoying the small amount of time he knew he had with him. Arthur was expected elsewhere; Hosea and himself had been setting up a scam for some months now, looking to expose some big crime bosses and make a buck in the process. Good work, by Arthur's standards.

 

"Albert…" Arthur mumbled, turning to plant a gentle kiss on Albert's head, smelling his hair. His hand brushed back and forth against Albert's back.

 

"Mmm…" Albert grumbled, barely awake.

 

"I gotta get goin'...it's nearly midday, and the gang's waitin' for me…" Arthur whispered. Albert groaned and hugged Arthur tightly.

 

"No." Albert said in a sleepy, gravelly tone, opening his eyes and looking up at him.

 

"I'm 'fraid so." Arthur sighed, but then leaned down to kiss Albert. Albert leaned into it, breathing quietly as they shared the tender moment in each others' arms.

 

"Wasn't even supposed to stay the night." Arthur chuckled as they parted lips. Albert chuckled, and lied his head on Arthur's chest again, his hand resting there and feeling his heartbeat.

 

"I'm glad you did. Certainly took us long enough." Albert snorted. Arthur laughed in a shy sort of way, but kissed the top of Albert's head.

 

"I'll stop through on my way back." Arthur promised as Albert shifted so he could sit up. He stretched as he moved out of the bed and found his shirt lying on the ground nearby, picking it up and shaking it out. He put it back on, looking round for his pants. Albert watched as he put himself together, hugging a pillow to his chest as he leane against the wall the bed was pushed against.

 

"Promise?" Albert asked

 

Arthur gave him a smile as he put his hat on his head, his outfit complete. He took the few steps to Albert's bed and leaned down, planting a kiss on Albert's lips. Albert savoured the taste of him until he pulled away, sticking his thumbs into his belt as he nodded, straightened up and standing tall with broad shoulders that Albert admired.

 

"Promise."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!!! :)

_ 1899 _

  
  


_ I won't be keepin' that promise to Albert. God, I feel like a real ass.  _

 

_ My heart is...well it's long past dead. All I can feel is this fuckin' rattlin' in my chest. I been dyin' for a while now, and just when people need me the most, it seems.  _

 

_ I'll miss that man. Gentler and sweeter than anyone I ever known, always smilin', always getting into trouble. I found myself over the years just looking for him when I rode through the fields, trying to spot his tripod and that hat of his he always wears.  _

 

_ I loved Albert, even though he was much better than I deserved. I hope he's happy. I've mailed him a letter and a hefty sum. I won't be needing it, and he should be able to use it for his art. It won't make up for what I've done to him, but I hope it makes other things easier for him. _

 

_ \---- _

 

Arthur closed his journal and brushed a bony hand through his hair. Whisps fell out into his hand and he sighed, feeling the rattling in his chest. He coughed lightly, and tucked his journal away into his bag before pulling a black bear fur over his shoulders, leaning against the trunk of a tree. He'd long given up trying to sleep lying down--it only made the coughing worse.

 

He'd set up his tent so it was popped over a branch, and he could see outside of the flap where a grey sky rained softly, drips falling to the ground below. Arthur felt the cold rattle through him--he'd been losing weight faster and faster this last few weeks. He knew his time was running out. 

 

Arthur closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep through the cold, lonely night, missing the man he'd only had a single night with, but whom he loved for longer than he knew.

 

\--------

  
  
  


1899

 

_ Albert,  _

 

_ I hope this letter finds you. I don't know how to start this. Or rather, I don't know how we started this. How I came to miss you. How I think about you, where you are or what you're doing.  _

 

_ I do know that I'm dying, Albert. I'm going north a bit. And I won't be coming back, one way or another.  _

 

_ I think you've known against your better judgement as well, for a while.  _

 

_ I didn't know how to tell you. I hope you can forgive me. I hope even more you can forgive me for leaving, breaking my promise, without letting you say goodbye. I had some business to take care of; a family, not my own but like my own, I need to protect. I've enclosed a sum for you--I know it won't make up for things, but I hope it'll make your life easier. I won't be needing it. _

 

_ I'll miss you, Albert. There was a time I thought maybe, just maybe, we could ride west, you and I, and not look back. I would have hunted for you, and you would cut the wood when my back gets sore like it does. You would fish, patient as you do, and I would find those herbs you loved. I wanted the days back when we had shared a tent in the grove. I wanted you. _

 

_ Those days of chasing my own wants are gone, but I'll go to my grave filled with regret I didn't make it happen sooner. All men die with regrets. Not all men die redeemed.  _

 

_ I hope I'll be granted redemption in your eyes one day. _

 

_ I love you, Albert. _

 

_ Always yours,  _

 

_ Arthur M. _

  
  
  


\--

 

Albert could feel the tears streaming down his face. He'd had to put the letter down several times already, had to step away, his heart and mind racing with emotion. Arthur was gone. He wasn't breathing. Albert wasn't breathing either, now, hyperventilating as he stared at the paper.

 

When he had regained his breath he'd read it through, again and again, trying to make sense of it. Albert had noticed the weight-loss, and his gaunt features on their last visit. He remembered the mentions of a cold that just wouldn't go away. He had seen the way he coughed into a handkerchief he had started keeping in his pocket. Albert had known. 

 

And it made it all the worse. He had known, but hadn't wanted to acknowledge it. He hadn't wanted to see it was there, that death was watching their every meeting.

 

Albert wanted to crumple the letter and make it disappear, but he knew it wouldn't make it any less real. Instead he folded it neatly and tucked it into his pocket, careful with it. It was the last thing he had from Arthur. 

 

Albert didn't know how long he sat there for, staring at the wooden wall, trying to breathe in a world without Arthur, trying to learn how to live without him in each small step. There was no more writing letters, and no more sketches in the mail from him. No one would answer. He couldn't find Arthur patiently waiting at some agreed-upon crossroads, nor would he find Arthur sketching beneath a tree at sunset. He wouldn't be there. 

 

Albert choked a sob down as he grabbed his jacket, his mind only on the saloon down the block.

 

\---

 

“Get outta the way, ya drunkard!”

 

Albert swayed as he crossed the street, dodging a carriage as he did. He didn't know when it had become spring again, but he felt a warm breeze move across his face, and could see the leaves on the trees starting to grow back. The sun was just beginning to come up again, and Albert glared at the sky. It was too beautiful. He hated it. He took the flask from his jacket and took another swig, the liquor burning his throat.

 

Time had not taken kindly to Albert. His usually neat hair tucked beneath a straw hat, was disheveled and had grown longer than he liked, and he had lost his hat long ago. His eyes were dark, the brightness and keen shine had disappeared, and large rings of exhaustion lined them. His shirt was untucked and unkept, wrinkly with stains on it of what appeared to be dirt and food. The bottom of his trousers were just as bad, and his beard had grown out with hints of grey in it coming through. He had an overall look of defeat about him; a drunk man lost to time and memories of a man who would never come back.

 

Albert made his way to his back-street apartment he had rented in an older area of St. Denis, near the fish markets so it had a strong smell to it all wafting off the river. He could watch ships come and go from his balcony, and after climbing the steps carefully, he sat himself down without bothering to open his front door. Albert watched the ships passing by slowly along the riverway, steam boats and coal boats spewing black clouds into the air. Albert felt his stomach roil. 

 

Setting his flask aside, Albert fished in his pockets, and produced a small photograph. It was of Arthur. He had been atop a hill, sketching in his journal with his horse, Apple, grazing a few steps off. His hat was off, sitting in the grass beside him, and he looked healthy and content. Albert felt tears come to his eyes as he stared longingly at the photo. More than anything, Albert wanted to be with him, dear or alive. It made no matter to him now. 

 

“Mister?”

 

Albert looked up, tears streaming down his face, to see a little girl staring down at him, a newspaper in hand. She had an entire bag strung over her shoulder full of them, which seemed to weigh her down considerably as it was almost as big as she was. Her blonde hair had been tucked under a cap, but strings of it still fell around her dirty face. 

 

“You ok, mister?” She asked. Her eyes darted to the photo Albert held for a moment, before Albert hid it away.  

 

Albert had no words for the little girl. He clearly wasn't ok, but the girl couldn't have been more than 12. She needn't worry about an old, miserable man. 

 

“Fine.” Albert said briskly. “Paper for me?”

 

“Yes, here,” She said, handing him the newspaper copy. Albert took it, glanced at it briefly, then looked back at the girl who was still standing there, waiting. Albert fished a few cents from his pocket and handed it to her, hoping to make her disappear.

 

“Y'know mister...momma says, even when we're sad, and we miss someone like I miss my poppa, we can go visit them. You just gotta go where they were.” The girl said, pocketing the change. She looked at Albert like it was a matter-of-fact statement, but Albert felt like he'd been hit in the face by a strong hand. It was an absurd concept, and made Albert angry to think about. Nothing could bring Arthur back. No forest or small, abandoned cabin they'd slept in would bring him back to Albert. 

 

“Thanks.” Albert said through gritted teeth. The girl shrugged and went on her way down the stairs, back to her route, leaving Albert to his misery.

 

\---

 

Albert woke thinking of Arthur. That in itself was not unusual; he dreamed of him frequently, both good and bad dreams. What was unusual was the sense of resolve this particular thought had put in his gut. 

 

He had dreamed of the girl, with her blonde hair and cap, her dirty face staring at him as she walked through a field. Albert had followed her. She ran, and Albert shouted to wait. She had turned a corner around a large oak tree, and Albert had rounded it to find Arthur there, the little girl gone. He had smiled at Albert, and tipped his hat to him like he always did.

 

Then he had woken up. 

 

And now he was without Arthur again, but with a firm sense in his mind that had filled him with at least temporary bravery. Flinging the sheets off him and muttering curse words at himself for giving himself another hangover, he hurriedly packed his things into the little carry bag, and made out of the small apartment like the wind.

 

\---

 

Albert had a headache. He supposed that was his own doing, after weeks, months, even, of drunkenness, his body was rebelling. Now though, more sober than he'd been in a while, he rode down a dirt road on horseback, the constant bumpy ride making his stomach coil. The horse was a pretty grey mare, not very fast, but reliable and sturdy. Albert's preferred.

 

Albert put his straw hat back on, shielding him from the sun that warmed him. He shrugged off his jacket, shedding the layer of warmth which was unnecessary in the summertime afternoons, even this far north, and undid the first button of his shirt. He looked like hell, truth be told. It had taken longer than a week to travel this far, and he had grown his beard out to a length longer than he normally liked. His dark hair had grown over his ears, and he found himself brushing it back with his hand every time he put his hat on. His shirt was wrinkled, and Albert pushed the sleeves up to his elbows.

Finally rounding a corner of a large cliffside, Albert perked up, lifting his chin towards the North West. A small pillar of smoke rose high into the sky, and Albert set his mare in that direction. The road wandered upwards, and Albert eventually came out to a larger forested area. Albert could see a small lit fire and a tent propped up amongst the trees.

 

"Who's there?!" A voice rang out. It was deep and only vaguely familiar to Albert. 

 

"Albert! Albert Mason!" Albert replied, his voice faltering slightly, nervous.

A mountain of a man appeared from behind one of the tall trees, holding a gun in his hands which he shouldered as he looked at Albert. He had brown skin that had obvious scars on it, healed with time but in a lighter colour on his hands and neck. He didn't smile, but he didn't frown either, neither man quite sure what to make of the other. 

 

"Charles. Charles Smith." The mountain said, breaking the silence. Albert nodded as he descended from his horse, patting her neck before reaching out to Charles with a welcome hand. 

 

"Thank you for meeting me, Charles. I'm amazed I even could contact you." Albert said as Charles let go of his hand. 

 

"You got lucky." Charles said. "Was 'bout to head into the bush when your letter came in."

 

"Well, thank you again." Albert said, bowing his head. 

 

"It's a bit of a hike from here. We'll head out first thing tomorrow." Charles said.

 

"Very good, of course. I brought some provisions for us." Albert said hurriedly, excited and nervous to have finally met Charles. Arthur had mentioned him fondly, always, with a soft tone and a gentle respect to his words. Charles was a man to be trusted, he said. 

 

Albert withdrew a cloth bag from his side saddle and handed it to Charles, who nodded and gave a quiet 'thanks' as he brought it to the campfire. Albert tied his mare to a nearby branch and followed suit, making himself comfortable on a bearskin Arthur had gifted him long ago that he unfurled with ease.

 

"So, Albert," Charles started, ever curious. "How'd you meet Arthur? Arthur mentioned you in passing but he was always the type to keep that sort of thing close to his chest." 

 

Albert thought of the first moment they'd met, and it made his heart ache, thinking of him so young, healthy, curious. He had a brightness to his eye and a sharp wit with a gentle demeanor. 

 

"I, uh, well, to be frank, he saved me from being eaten by some wolves." Albert laughed nervously. Charles opened a pack of biscuits and chuckled. 

 

"Sounds like Arthur, alright." He said, handing Albert a biscuit. He accepted it and nodded his thanks. 

 

"Yes, it does." Albert smiled. "He talked often of you though. He was quite fond of you."

 

"Did he now?" Charles said, sounding a bit surprised. 

 

"Oh, yes. Charles the excellent hunter with a golden heart. It made for quite the idyllic image." Arthur said. It got a grin out of Charles, at least. 

 

"I'd doubt that, but he was a good man." Charles nodded. 

 

"That he was. Thank you, again, for taking me. I know it's a lot to ask but...he...meant a lot to me." Arthur swallowed, his mouth dry as he looked at the ground. 

 

"Yeah he talked about you, once or twice, but I knew he visited you more than he said he did. When he did talk though, I thought...Well, I ain't ever heard him sound like that, talking about anyone else before." Charles said with a knowing look. 

 

Albert shoved a sob down, willing tears back as he thought about the man he'd loved for over a decade, overwhelmed all over again. 

 

"I been savin' this." Charles coughed, sensing the tension radiating off of Albert. He brought out a bottle of whiskey, and Albert sighed. 

 

"You  _ are _ the great man Arthur told me about." Albert sighed. 

 

"I thought a special occasion warranted it." Charles conceded as he uncorked the bottle with a  _ pop! _

 

\------

 

Albert had restrained himself, and he thanked himself for it the next morning, feeling fine and without a hangover. Imposing his own will again was something odd to him--it would take some getting used to.

 

Albert packed up his things and loaded them onto his mare, giving her a small bundle of hay and apples for her breakfast. Charles awoke soon after him, emerging from his tent, stretching his broad arms wide towards the sky as he yawned. He gave a nod to Albert, silent but kind, and set about making coffee over the fire Albert had gotten going. Albert mused to himself as he watched Charles, thinking him handsome with his squared jaw and long dark hair, but the only thought that followed was one of guilt. How dare he feel that tug of affection towards another?, he thought. 

 

Charles poured them some coffee, and handed Albert a mug wordlessly. He really didn't talk much, Albert had come to notice, but when he did it was kind and gentle in a soft tone, answering whatever prying questions Albert came up with now and again. They drank their coffee in the quiet morning, listening to birdsong. The sun was gaining height in the sky when they set out at last on their mares, Charles leading them through the country. They traveled for hours, stopping only for a quick lunch by the roadside before heading on again, the day going by with ease as they travelled past farms and through woods until they found themselves in a large valley, stretching out until it went into rolling hills, trees dotting the horizon here and there. 

 

"We're here." Charles said at dusk, the pink sky of sunset beginning to cast it's glow. 

 

They were at the foot of a large hill, a towering tree with long branches leaning over it at the top, silhouetted against the orange sky. It was a beautiful sight, Albert thought as he descended from his horse. He took off his hat, as he spotted the smaller silhouette at the top of the hill--a small cross. 

 

"Go on, then. I'll set camp down here in the woods a bit. You take your time." Charles said with a nod as Albert looked over his shoulder at him. He led his horse off, but stayed within sight as he went to set up camp before they lost the light. 

 

Albert sighed, feeling nervous. Why, he didn't know--there was no one alive waiting for him. He knew he had to come here--seeing Arthur's smile in his dream had left with it being the only desire he'd had for anything in a long while. 

 

He put one foot in front of the other, walking up towards the top of the hill, trying his best to ignore his stomach that was in knots. He stumbled lightly, but picked himself up and made it to the top, appreciating the view before he looked to his left at the small white cross that had been staked into the ground beneath the tree. 

 

The cross itself had Arthur’s name chiseled into it by a practiced hand, and Albert wondered if it was Charles who had done it. It stood out from the white, painted over in the creases in black, and Albert couldn’t help but reach his hand out to brush his fingers against it. He took his hat off as he did, and kneeled down to the grave sight in the long grass that had grown over it. 

 

“Been a while.” He murmured to himself, but also to the man beneath his feet, long gone. 

 

Albert sighed, dropping his hand from the cross and making himself comfortable, leaning his back against the bowing tree to sit beside Arthur’s grave. 

 

“What do you say, one last sunset watch together, hm?” Albert said aloud, watching the pink sky growing darker with each minute. He could feel tears falling down his face already, but all he felt was loneliness, settled deep within himself, aching for Arthur’s warm touch again, just once more. He had known coming here would awaken all of the feelings he’d shoved away with alcohol over the last year, but he also knew that his heart was healing, and seeing Arthur again, even just his grave, was part of it. 

 

“I loved you. In fact, I think I still do,” Albert mumbled, playing with the frayed edges of his straw hat until the stars came out above in an inky black sky.  “I’ll miss you, Arthur Morgan.”

 

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